Naomi
Fear stabbed me right in the gut. It was the first and, for a moment, the only thing I knew. It spread, radiating the wrong way through my veins until it reached my heart and set it beating hard in my ears. The sound of it only made things worse. I was desperately trying to listen, although I didn't know why. Familiar fight or flight instincts were rising in my veins, screaming at me to get up now, wake up now, be ready for Negan's boots on the floor, Dwight's keys in the lock, or-.
None of that.
Small pieces of reality started to break through my semi-conscious terror. My chest was tight, but underneath my short, sharp breaths, I heard the steady breathing of someone else. I wasn't alone. A warm back rested up against mine - shared body heat cocooned beneath the covers. I took a few deep breaths and caught the indescribable scent of home - of Daryl - and I knew I was safe.
I rolled over slowly so as not to wake him. The covers were pulled up over his shoulders, and all I could see was a mop of dark hair with the tip of his ear poking through. I thought about how red they turned when he said something he thought was corny, and the warmth it filled me with was strong enough to melt the fear away.
This is the only way I want to wake up for the rest of my life.
I'd never felt so damn lucky. I wanted to put an arm around Daryl, lean closer to the warmth of his back. But the moment the impulse struck me, nerves held me where I was. I told myself it was because fight or flight was as hardwired into Daryl as it was to me, and startling him awake might earn me a punch to the face before he woke up enough to realize it was me. But the truth was, I didn't know how to do… this.
Is Daryl… cuddly?
If someone had asked me this even a month ago, I'd have said no. And then I'd have laughed so hard I cried. I almost laughed then, just thinking about it, but I didn't want Daryl to wake up and see the giddy fear that was sneaking up on me. So I held my breath and prayed my nervous laughter didn't bubble up.
Good God, Naomi, pull yourself together. It's Daryl.
I'd never wrap my head around how someone I knew inside out could have this kind of effect on me. I'd known this dumbass longer than I'd known anyone. Woken up with him a million times. Before we'd got together, I'd have smacked him with a pillow until he woke up and hit me back. This desire to reach out to him was new, and it was powerful. And I was scared of it.
I knew how to be his best friend, but his girlfriend? That was a whole other ball game. I'd never seen myself as anyone's girlfriend... or anyone's anything.
What if I'm bad at it?
For so long, I'd preferred things that way. The idea of belonging to someone left me with this deep and cold unease. But now I wished I'd tried it on for size, had a practice-run before diving into a love I'd already been so deep in that I hadn't been able to see it.
I could never have been anyone's anything because I'd always, unknowingly, been Daryl's. Now that I knew that, I thought the unease would leave me alone, but it still sat heavy as a rock in my stomach. I rolled over again, turned the other way, feeling like that rock was heavy enough to sink me.
Help.
Underneath the reasons that I'd always given for avoiding any kind of long-term relationship - needing to put Mia first, put my education first, put my career first - there was a deep fear. I could cover it with those surface reasons, but it still tugged at my toes, a riptide that threatened to pull me under if I stayed still. So, the second I felt it, I'd keep moving. Never looking back, never looking down. Desperately trying to escape the truth lurking in those depths. I could feel it lapping at my heels again now, and with it, that familiar urge to run.
No.
I don't want to run from this.
But my feet were touching the floor. I didn't remember doing it, but I'd swung my legs out of bed. My chest felt tight again.
I'm not running.
I just need some air.
I stood up as quietly as I could. Maybe Bryce or Mia would be up, and I could distract myself from feeling like I was drowning. I could wait for this pass, push it all back down again where it belonged.
'He deserves better,' the first intrusive thought slipped out. I'd let myself linger on this for longer than usual, and the walls I'd built around this were starting to crack. 'You think you're good enough to give it to him?'
The trouble with trying to fight your own worst thoughts is that they're demons born from a place deep inside you, where the worst things you've ever done dwell alongside the flaws you'd do anything to keep hidden. Arguing against them is really damn hard.
'You are too fucked up to make him happy.'
I hated the thought of Daryl being with anyone else, but I wanted better for him than me. I wanted him to be with the kind of person who didn't drive him crazy with worry like I did. Someone who'd stay out of fights when he asked them to, someone who didn't have my talent for pissing off dangerous people. Someone less mouthy, less stubborn. Someone who could build him the kind of home he'd never got to have before, cook a damn meal without burning it - some crazy lucky person who knew how to date an incredible guy like Daryl without having a minor breakdown. Someone who didn't flinch at the smallest unexpected touch.
Someone less...damaged.
'You couldn't even protect Mia when it counted. If you lose this war, she'd have been better off with Negan.'
The room dipped under my feet like a ship in a storm. That was a whole new punch in the gut. Had I pulled Mia from somewhere she was safe right into a war? Had I made that war worse? Put a target on her back because she was my sister? If the Saviors managed to get out of Sanctuary, I had undoubtedly made this whole situation worse. Negan, if he was still alive, would demand vengeance.
'You fucked up.'
If Negan was dead, Simon would be next in line, and he'd enact his own kind of cruelty under the pretense that it was in Negan's name.
'You put everyone Daryl cares about in danger, you can't protect them, and once he sees that he'll leave,' the punch in that thought didn't land as hard because of its predictability. People leaving was something I expected from most folks who came into my life, but for once, that demon was quieter. Worrying about letting someone in didn't make sense when that person was Daryl. He knew me better than anyone, and he'd still wanted to start this. He loved me.
'Everyone leaves.'
I stopped with my hand on the door handle and closed my eyes for a moment. I was winning this battle with myself. I could think all kinds of horrible shit about myself, but I wouldn't entertain a bad word against Daryl, not even from my own doom spiral. Because yeah, sure, some people were unreliable assholes, but not him. Not everyone would up and leave. Not the most loyal person I knew, not Daryl.
'He left you before.'
That nasty, intrusive little thought stung way more than any of the rest. Powerful enough to knock me back to the memory of a slamming dorm room door on one of the worst nights of my life. It was the unexpectedness of it, I think. I hadn't given any thought to that dumb fight for a long time. It paled in comparison to everything else we'd been through. I got why he'd stormed out that night; I'd said some horrible shit. So why couldn't I shake this?
I'd forgiven him years before we'd met again and never blamed him for walking out. But maybe, a tiny part of me still hurt from him never walking back in. The slam of that door had echoed through every other relationship I'd had. It carried with it a reverberating and inescapable truth:
'If Daryl can't stick with me, nobody ever will.'
The thought alone was enough for that cold, sinking feeling to take over my body and fill my lungs. Close to paralyzing me. I finally turned the handle, hoping I'd be able to breathe easier on the other side of the door.
"The hell are you going?" Daryl's voice was gruff with sleep. I turned back to look at him. He hadn't moved, hadn't stirred. I froze again, thinking if I gave it long enough, he'd fall back asleep. But after a moment, Daryl opened one eye and squinted at me in the gloom, "Ain't skipping out on me already, are ya?"
He said it like he meant it as a joke, but there was a glimmer in his eyes that betrayed the not-so-casual worry underpinning it. A dead Momma, a deadbeat Daddy, and a brother who only knew how to love him selfishly had left Daryl with demons too. Maybe we even shared a few, like the one that told us we deserved the abandonment we spent our whole lives fearing.
"No," I said immediately. "'Course not."
I'd just needed some air. Some space to calm down, but now that Daryl was awake and looking at me with those blue eyes of his, I could feel myself relaxing.
"Then, where you going?" he asked, glancing at where my hand still rested on the door handle. I let go.
"I was..." I struggled to know how to word it to him. The more I calmed down, the dumber my freakout felt. And I didn't want him taking it personally. "I was just going to check Mia and Bryce were alright."
He didn't look like he fully believed me, and it was only a half-truth. I had been going to seek out Mia and Bryce, but I was the one who hadn't been alright.
"They'll probably be better if they ain't woken up by a crazy lady staring at them."
"They might already be awake."
"Doubt it. It's the middle of the night."
"It's morning."
"No, it ain't."
"It's light out," I said. Daryl turned his head back to look at the window.
"Pfft," he immediately dismissed the small amount of light behind the curtains and turned back to me. "Barely. Come back to bed."
Daryl lifted up the covers on his side of the bed, and I was frozen where I was for a whole other reason. I had a vague memory of him taking his pants off before bed, but he must've gotten too warm in the night and taken his shirt off as well. Daryl was in nothing but his boxers.
Oh.
My.
God.
My first instinct was to look away, that it was somehow wrong for me to see him like this. For years, I'd put up a subconscious barrier that blocked those kinds of thoughts about Daryl before they could make our friendship weird. That barrier, which had been weakened every time we kissed, had just been well and truly kicked down forever. I could not tear my gaze away from his broad chest, from the muscles I'd only ever felt through his shirt, faded scars, and chest hair that I never could have known were there.
Daryl had always been off-limits, forbidden.
Except, now he wasn't.
Help.
"Er, ...you okay?" Daryl asked.
No.
I don't think I'd taken a breath since he'd lifted those covers, and I was feeling light-headed. Dazed, I looked back at his face. I realized my mouth was hanging open and could feel my heart beating in the back of my throat. The tips of his ears had turned red again, and his cheeks started to flush. He'd clearly forgotten he was half-naked and was getting self-conscious about it. My staring wasn't helping either of us.
"Uh-huh," I said, trying to play it cool while knowing full well that I was not capable of stringing a sentence together.
"C'mon then, girl," he said, nodding to the empty space on the mattress between him and the bed. "I'm getting cold."
How could I say no? How could anyone?
Still feeling dizzy and kind of like I was having an out-of-body experience, I slipped in beside him. He wrapped me up in his arms as well as the blanket, and I did my best not to freak out at the warmth of his bare chest against my body.
Stop thinking about it.
I tensed up, trying not to lean too much into him. I had no idea what to do with my hands, so I kept them close to my chest in case he didn't want me touching his. I wanted to, though. I really did. I felt weirdly guilty about how much I wanted to.
"Hey, you sure you're okay?" he asked, looking down at me in his arms.
"Yeah," I said because I had not yet pulled myself together enough to say anything else, nevermind describing the rollercoaster of emotions I'd gone through since I'd woken up.
"When you were standing by the door, you looked..." he hesitated. "I dunno... scared, or something."
I didn't want to lie to him, not even by omission. Admitting out loud what had happened to me at Terminus had been hard as hell, but it had helped. A mixed effect of making me feel small and scared like I had when it happened, but also lighter. Like someone else was sharing the weight of it. But I'd uncorked something that had been safely bottled up with everything else I'd repressed, and it was impossible to stop other things leaking out. Healing is its own kind of pain, and nobody prepares you for it.
"I was scared," I admitted.
"If anything had happened, they'd have come to get us," Daryl said, immediately assuming my fears were about the Saviors. "I made Rick promise that he'd wake us up if anything changed."
"No, that ain't what I-" I stopped as I realized what he'd said. "Wait, Rick's back?"
"Yeah." Daryl looked like he wanted to kick himself for letting it slip.
"Since when?"
"He got back last night," he said. "Before I came here."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Thought you'd want to rush out there and start planning shit with him," Daryl said. "And I..."
"Wanted me to get some rest," I finished for him. "Yeah, I know."
"Yeah," he said. "Plus, it was hard to tell you anything while you were waving a knife at me."
"Oh yeah, sorry about that."
I thought he was done talking, but then I saw the redness in his cheeks that had only been beginning to die down start to rise again. He said, "But it weren't just that."
"No?"
"Nah," he said reluctantly, although nobody was making him talk but himself. "I only just got you back, and I know we got shit to deal with. I know this thing with the Saviors ain't done, but I wanted you to myself for a bit. I know it's selfish, but..."
"No," I said. "It ain't. It's lovely."
"Yeah?"
I'd surprised him, although I didn't know how. Who in their right mind wouldn't want this?
"Yeah."
Something in what I'd said gave him enough confidence to keep going. One of his hands brushed stray strands of hair from my face, "Waking up with you… talking like this… this is all I wanted."
"Really?" I said, my stomach filled with butterflies, and I could not keep the smile from my lips. Seemed like Daryl couldn't stop his shy smile either.
"Yeah. You think we could… er, keep it going?"
"What do you mean?"
"Y'know... pretend for a little while that all this other shit ain't going on. That it's just us. If Alexandria needs us, we'll go, but you think until then we could just have a normal morning?" he said. I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't even sure what a 'normal morning' was anymore. Luckily, Daryl had an answer for that, "I can make some breakfast for us, for Mia and Bryce too, if they're around-"
"You hungry?" I interrupted.
"I didn't mean right this second, dumbass. It's basically midnight."
"It's light out."
"Don't know how many times I gotta tell you: no, it ain't."
"I can see light behind that curtain," I said. "Sun's up."
"Probably just an overexcited star," Daryl said. "It ain't morning."
"The sun is a star, dummy."
"Alright, smartass," he grumbled. "Well, I was kinda hoping we could stay here awhile. Maybe even have a damn lie in. That too much to ask?"
"No," I said, still smiling. "That sounds kinda nice, actually."
"Good," he said, pulling me closer. He closed his eyes again but winced when one of my toes accidentally brushed against his bare leg. "How are your feet so damn cold already? There ice on that floor or something?"
"Sorry," I said, pulling my feet away from him.
"Nah, it's fine," he said, and I felt one of his legs wrap around mine, pulling them back toward him. "Warm 'em on me."
Our legs wrapped around each other - my freezing cold feet against the warmth of his calves. I was doing my best not to be overly touchy, but Daryl's arms tightened around me again, refusing to let me go even a little bit.
So Daryl is kinda cuddly.
Surprising, but… noted.
Daryl opened one eye again and saw me looking up at him.
"What you smiling about?" he asked, but he'd started smiling again too.
"You," I said honestly, and I could tell he didn't know what to say back, so he started kissing me.
Slow, sleepy kisses.
They lingered, each one melting into the next. Savoring each other and this rare, quiet moment together. No rush. No urgency. Just pure love and the heat of his body.
I couldn't resist it much longer. My hands trembled as I uncurled my fingers. I was nothing but a raw bundle of nerves as I reached out to put a hand on Daryl's chest. His collarbone under my fingertips, chest hair against my palm, and I felt him tense up. I stopped kissing him at once and felt awful that I might have crossed a line.
"Sorry," I whispered, withdrawing my hand.
"No, it's fine," he said quickly. "Just wasn't expecting it is all. You been clammed up since you lay down here, figured you might not be comfortable with..."
"No, I am," I said quickly, although 'comfortable' wasn't exactly the word I'd use. The heady mix of desire, anxiety, and anticipation swirling in my stomach was far from comfortable. But that didn't mean I didn't like it. Or that I wanted it to end.
"'Cause I just overheated," Daryl continued. "I wasn't trying to... y'know. I didn't think that you... would, er,... you ain't gotta... erm,..."
"I don't. I'm not..." I said. It was hard to reassure him about whatever was worrying him because he was too flustered to say what he meant. Didn't help that I was too tongue-tied as well. "I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable by... y'know… and I'm sorry I gawped at you, but you're..."
I glanced down at him, which did nothing to help me find my words again. Everything I wanted to say was both too corny and not strong enough, and any time I looked at him, it was like a part of my brain shut down. Stammering into silence did nothing to help him feel less self-conscious, and I could feel my cheeks burning.
"What?" Daryl prompted, a hint of worry in his voice.
"...perfect."
"Pfft… shut up," he tried to brush it off, uncomfortable with any kind of compliment. I was about to protest, but then he kissed me again, and it was a relief to have something to do with my mouth other than talk.
Daryl took my wrist and placed my hand back on his chest, and nerves twisted my stomach up in knots. There was still a part of me that couldn't get over that it was Daryl.
My Daryl.
The feeling that Daryl was off-limits was so deeply ingrained that it was hard to shake. It still felt like I was breaking some kind of rule, that giving in to my deeply buried desire was a weakness that would drive him away from me. But it was Daryl who'd put my hand on his chest, Daryl who moved his hand to the small of my back and pulled my hips tight against his. It was as if he wanted me just as much as I wanted him. And it was impossible not to crave more of that feeling.
I finally got up the courage to move my hand from where he'd placed it and commit the feel of his skin to memory - the hair and muscles on his chest, his arms, his waist, shoulder blades, the slight dip at the small of his back. If I touched him lightly enough, he'd shiver against me and kiss me deeper.
It didn't take long before my fingers met a ridge on his skin. It took me a second to realize I'd hit on one of the scars on his back. They'd healed a long time ago, but I touched them as gently as he'd been with the fresh wounds on my body. My oldest scars bother me the most, and I figured it might be the same for him.
Feeling them created a deep ache in me. It pulled me back to patching him up in my Momma's grimy old bathroom. The first time I'd truly realized I'd move Heaven and Earth to protect him, a certainty had only grown with time. With his lips on mine and his arms around me, I slowly understood why I lost my ability to speak around him. Why he was the only person in the world that I'd ever been this nervous around.
If I fuck this up, I won't recover from it.
The realization made me hold on a little tighter, kiss him a little harder, surrender more of myself to him. I felt the top of his hip bone against my hand, the waistband of his boxers hiding the rest. Daryl felt me stop as I hit the material, and he pulled back.
We looked at each other for a moment, and there were a thousand things I wished I could put into words.
"We should stop now," he said, although a little reluctantly and a little out of breath, "Or you'll get me going."
I didn't want to stop, I wanted to get him going, but I didn't want to ruin this with a panic attack by pushing myself too far too fast. So, I nodded, and Daryl settled back down into the pillow under our heads. I rested mine against his chest again and tried to calm the heat that had been rising in me.
Daryl was quiet, like he might be getting ready to drift back to sleep. Normally, I'd have let it happen, relieved that he'd made his own assumptions about what I was freaking out about so that I wouldn't have to tell him the truth. But I didn't want to this time.
"Hey, Daryl?" My heart was beating hard against my ribs, and I knew I had to speak now before losing my nerve.
"Yeah?"
"That stuff about the Saviors... that... wasn't what I was scared of. Or, what I am scared of." I said it quietly, but his eyes opened again, immediately worried.
"No?"
"Nah. I..." I wished I'd thought further ahead about how to word this. "I... I just don't want to fuck this up."
"Fuck what up?" he asked, although I thought it had been obvious.
"Fuck us up."
"Naomi," he shook his head like he was dealing with an utter moron. "Quit being a dumbass."
It was hard not to get a little annoyed by that when I'd spent so much time psyching myself up for it. I knew it would be me who fucked this up. Daryl had been… well, he'd been goddamn perfect. He knew what to do, what to say. He'd taken everything in his stride. He'd planned a damn date, and I'd freaked up about waking up next to him?
"I mean it, Daryl," I said. I could see him fighting the urge to roll his eyes.
"I love you, Naomi," he said. "That's forever. There's nothing you could do to change that. You can't fuck this up. It's impossible."
It's easy to say those kinds of things, to make those promises when things are good. It's harder to keep loving someone when you're mad at them, or when they're being an asshole, or when they make a mistake, and I knew there were moods I could get in that made me extremely difficult to love. So, I press on.
"It ain't," I said. "Next time we have a fight-"
"We ain't gonna fight," he said, offended that I'd even suggested it.
"We will," I said. "Everyone fights."
"Not us."
"We're fighting right now."
"This ain't a fight; it's a disagreement."
"Okay, well, if we ever have another real fight, you can walk out," I said. I didn't want to get caught up in semantics, or I'd never be able to make my point. Daryl frowned, maybe at the idea of him walking out or maybe dropping the bickering so fast had shown him how serious I was about this. "You can take your time. Stay away if you gotta calm down... but you gotta promise me that once you have, you'll come back."
"'Course I will."
"No matter what we've said to each other," I pressed. "No matter what hot-headed bullshit we've both been yelling, you can always walk it back, and I will always be sorry. For whatever it is I've done."
"Naomi, that ain't gonna happen. You ain't got nothing to worry about," he said, pulling me close to his chest again.
"Promise me," I mumbled into his neck.
"I promise," he said. I knew he didn't fully get it. But hearing him say it helped.
The truth is, I was broken. We both were. And we had been long before the dead started walking. But that didn't mean that we didn't deserve this. Or that we were incapable of holding on to something that felt so good. Part of holding onto that - part of loving and being loved - was facing the worst parts of yourself with someone who saw them too but loved you all the same.
We lay in silence for a while, legs and arms all tangled in each other. I listened to Daryl's heartbeat in his chest, to the steadying rise and fall of his breathing as he fell back asleep again. I filled up with the familiar certainty that I would do whatever it took to keep his heart beating, keep us together. Nobody would lay a finger on him or tear us apart again. Not Negan. Not Simon. Especially not my own damn insecurities.
I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I knew, something soft hit me in the face.
"Hey!" I yelled, briefly opening my eyes to a room that was now flooded with sunlight before a pillow came down and hit me in the face again. I threw my hands up to push it off.
Daryl's face grinned down at me, "Hey there, sleepyhead."
I mumbled a curse under my breath and moved to snatch my own pillow from under my head. Too slow. Before I could lift it up and hit him back, Daryl grabbed my wrists and pinned them where they were. His body moved over mine, his legs on either side of me, and he leaned over to kiss me before I could yell at him. But I was not complaining.
These weren't the slow and careful kisses of earlier that morning. These were harder, more urgent like Daryl had been waiting a while. I wondered if he'd woken up before me, lain awake worrying about how to wake me up like I had with him. It was almost hard to kiss him back because of how much I was smiling. This had been the perfect wake-up call.
Without warning, he froze and pulled back.
"Shit," he let go of me, a concerned frown creased his brow. "Is this okay?"
It was sweet of him to worry like that. I wanted to reassure him that he hadn't crossed any lines, but I had bigger fish to fry. He'd been so caught up in kissing me that he'd dropped the pillow, and now it was right within my grasp. Rookie mistake.
"No," I said, trying to reach for it without him noticing. His face fell for a split second before I added, "You dropped your guard, dipshit."
Daryl opened his mouth to say 'what?' but couldn't get it out before I whacked him across the face with the pillow he'd so stupidly let go of.
"Hey!" He tried to grab it back from me, but I held on tight, pulled it free, and hit him again. Daryl was laughing too hard to protest. He grabbed it, wrenched it off me. I squealed as it smacked against my face and raised my arms to grab at it again. There'd be a few seconds where one of us would have a fleeting win and get a few hits in before the other one would grab it again. It was a mess of laughter and limbs as we tried to wrestle it off one another.
I'm not even sure which one of us started it, but pretty soon, the material was gone from under my fingers, and I barely noticed it happen because Daryl's lips were back on mine. Our dumb pillow fight dissolved into something else entirely. His hands were way too busy running all over me for him to get me back, and mine were busy pulling him closer to even think about starting it up again. All I could think about was him - the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of his body between my legs.
Goddamn, Daryl.
Breathless for so many reasons, I pulled away. There was a heartbeat of silence where we just looked at one another, and then Daryl murmured, "I love you."
Despite all the laughter that had led up to this, the look in his eyes was so serious. I got it. The weight of everything that we were, everything that we had been, and the potential of everything we were about to be, sat between us.
"I love you, too," I said, brushing some of his hair away from his face. Neither of us moved. It had nothing to do with his body on mine, the weight of his hips between my thighs keeping me under him; I'm sure I could've moved him if I wanted to. I didn't want to. His arms were curled on either side of me as he propped himself up in his elbows above me. Every part of me was surrounded by him, and I'd never felt so safe.
It was the way he looked at me that kept me pinned there. It's a lot to take - when someone's looking at you like you're their whole damn world. It could be a lot of pressure if you let it. If it had been anyone other than Daryl, it could have been enough to send me running for the hills, but I knew I was looking back at him in the exact same way.
"Breakfast?" he asked eventually. I nodded reluctantly. He pushed himself up and off me, and I immediately missed the weight of his body on mine - the warmth of him.
As I stood up, my foot hit on the abandoned pillow, forgotten on the floor. I'm not sure which one of us threw it down there. Daryl pulled a shirt on, and I tried not to look too disappointed. Before he opened the bedroom door, he took my hand. Held it a little tighter than usual, like just walking out of here would bring our peaceful morning crashing to an end.
It didn't, Mia was still curled up on the sofa, but she was awake. There was a book in her hand, and she raised her head from the armrest when we came in. Morning sunlight flooded the room she was in, and it all looked so… normal. Maybe it was the stark contrast to my living conditions in Sanctuary, but things here felt so good that it was almost as if the world hadn't ended.
"Morning," I said.
"Morning!" she said, jumping to her feet. Mia seemed to be in as good a mood as we were.
"Where's Bryce?" I asked.
"He's taken a shift at the gates," Mia said. "He sends his love, though."
"You hungry?" Daryl asked her. He asked it a little too quickly like he was worried that talk of Bryce's shift at the gate would be enough for me to declare this morning of peace over. He needn't have worried. Daryl and Mia, safe and happy doing normal family shit - this was everything I'd fought my way back for.
Mia nodded, and we headed for the kitchen. While Daryl rooted around in various cupboards for food, Mia told me all about how he'd made her mac and cheese the first night they'd stayed at the Hilltop. Daryl kept his back to us the whole time, but I saw the tell-tale redness hit the tips of his ears, and my heart felt so full it kind of hurt. Like it might burst if it filled up anymore. I'd always known he'd take good care of her, but to hear her talk about it without having to ask anything meant the world to me. I was glad I'd made it out, but it was good to know they'd have looked after each other if Negan had killed me.
When Daryl didn't say anything, Mia sidled up to watch what he was doing with an assortment of eggs he'd found somewhere in the kitchen. They weren't all hen's eggs, but you get a lot less fussy about that kind of thing when there aren't many other choices.
"What are you making?" Mia asked, standing on her tiptoes to look.
"Just some scrambled eggs," Daryl said with a small shrug.
"Will you teach me?" Mia asked. Daryl paused.
"You don't know how to scramble eggs?"
"No."
He looked over at me. "You didn't teach her to scramble some damn eggs?"
"What makes you think I know how to scramble some damn eggs?" I said.
"You tried once," Mia reminded me. She looked back at Daryl. "Once she'd scooped it out of the sieve, it was okay. Kind of tasted like an eraser, though."
There was clearly too much in what Mia had said for Daryl to unpack it all at once. "What were you using a sieve for?"
"To drain them, obviously," I said.
"Drain them?"
"Yeah."
"Were they the runniest eggs in the world? Probably should've just cooked 'em longer."
"I don't think it was the eggs," I said. "I think it was the milk."
"How much did you put in?"
"I dunno… a carton?"
"A carton?"
"Yeah, the recipe said to add milk."
"Okay, but just like a splash, not every drop you got in the house."
"Well, the recipe should've said that."
Daryl sighed, lost for words for a moment, and then looked at Mia. "For a smartypants, your sister's a real dumbass."
Mia agreed, and I didn't care. Didn't even retort. I just leaned back on the kitchen counter and watched the love of my life teaching my little sister how to scramble some damn eggs. I loved how easy things were between them. With sunlight coming in through the window, the kitchen filling up with the smell of cooking breakfast, this was a truly perfect moment. When things got bad again, which I knew they would, this would be one of the moments I looked back on to get me through.
Daryl was just serving it up when the door opened. It was Bryce, his face was flushed, and he was out of breath. He'd clearly run here. While Mia approached him and asked if he was okay, Daryl and I looked at each other. We knew. We knew before he even said anything that whatever he'd rushed back to tell us was about to shatter our perfect, sleepy morning.
"They got out," Bryce said. "The Saviors got out. We just heard it over the radio. Rick's called a meeting."
Daryl
Shit was tense for all of us. But ain't nobody in that room felt it more than me. Rick was standing at the Church's pulpit when we walked in; the people of Alexandria were spread out in the pews. All of them looked tired. Many of them had been injured and had come back here to recover. Fighting was far from what any of them wanted. The news that the Saviors had got out made the atmosphere cold with a sick kind of dread.
It was so different from the morning we'd had that it made all the good stuff feel like a dream. I glanced at Naomi and hoped she didn't feel like it had been a waste of time. That she didn't just see it as a lie-in and some damn scrambled eggs, that she knew it meant a hell of a lot more to me than that. She'd seemed happy at the time. I hoped she wasn't just humoring me; I hoped she didn't regret letting me talk her into it.
More attention was on her than I knew she'd be comfortable with. I walked a little closer to her, scanned the faces of everyone there, looking for any sign that they blamed her for the Saviors getting out. Anyone who tried to pin it on her would find themselves torn to shreds pretty damn fast. Let them blame me if they gotta blame someone. Hell, I was the one who made the damn hole in the wall.
Shit.
Was it my fault?
I'd been fretting so much over Naomi, I hadn't stopped to think that I might be the reason they got out. I felt a small twist of guilt in my gut, but with Naomi at my side and Mia just behind us, I wouldn't have been able to look anyone in the eye and say I thought the risk hadn't been worth it. We could protect this place and the people in it, and we were a hell of a lot stronger for having Naomi back.
We were the last people to arrive, and Rick stepped forward when we walked in like it was us he'd been waiting for. He had a real nervous look about him, and I didn't much like it. Lately, that look had only meant he was about to betray me or that the deed was already done, and I was about to find out about it.
"They got out," Naomi broke the silence that had fallen over the Church. She said it more like a statement, but Rick answered her all the same.
"Yes."
"They heading here?"
"Can't say for sure, but I don't doubt it," Rick said, then he slipped into that cop-voice of his. The one that comes out when he's trying to calm a situation down before it can escalate into something else. I know that tone all too well. It's usually directed at me. When he does it preemptively, I feel my nerves spike, ready for whatever fight it is he's trying to stop. "Now, I know there's some concern that they'll come here and demand we turn over Naomi for what she did, but-"
"No," I said immediately. "Ain't happening."
"Daryl," Naomi said gently. "You don't know what he was going to say."
"Sure I do," I said. "He's going to let you die for his war. Just like he was gonna do when you were outside Sanctuary, and these assholes opened fire."
"If that's what it takes to win this thing," she said. "If it stops a bigger war. If it can save Alexandria…"
'If it can save you and Mia,' she didn't say it, but I could see that thought burning in her eyes. Couldn't really blame her for it, neither. I'd have handed myself over in a heartbeat for my girls, but it wasn't me they were after.
"No," I said again. I didn't have any kind of counter-argument or plan. All I knew was that if anything like that were to go down, it would be over my dead body.
"There are a lot of lives at stake here!" she said. "If it comes down to one person or every-"
"Yeah, there are a lotta lives at stake, but none of them would still be here if it weren't for you," I said and turned to look at them all sitting there in their damn pews, ready to hand over the best thing that had ever happened to Alexandria. "Think we'd have been ready for the first fight against Negan if she hadn't sent Dwight to warn us? Think we'd have had time to get reinforcements from the Hilltop and Kingdom? Think any of you sorry assholes would still be here if it weren't for her? She's done enough for this place. The least y'all can do is help me protect her."
"Dar-" Rick started to say my name, but I rounded on him.
"You wanna throw her to the wolves again, huh?" I got up in his face more than I meant to, but he needed to know I was done with his bullshit. I'd fight them both if I had to. "After she had the balls to do what you couldn't and take down Negan? Happy to let other people do your dirty work so long as it ain't your family in the firing line, huh?"
"Daryl!" Naomi snapped. "There might not be another way, if-"
She stopped. Rick had held up his hands to shut us up. "Let's all just take a few steps back, okay? A few deep breaths."
Even though I'd been screaming at him, he looked kind of amused, and that did nothing but fuel the fire in my belly.
"Whatever it is you've got to say," I said, "spit it out, Rick."
"Nobody is saying we should give Naomi up if they ask us to," he said. "I was raising it as a concern. I wasn't suggesting it as an option."
"If it's what it comes to, Rick-" Naomi started.
"Nope, we can't let you do that," he said firmly. I could hardly believe it. Neither, it seemed, could Naomi. We'd been so busy arguing with each other, we hadn't realized that Rick hadn't actually weighed in on this. He gave her a small smile, amused by how shocked she was. "Sorry, Naomi, I'm with Daryl on this one. You've done enough for this place. We can handle the Saviors."
I watched her closely as she digested this. She looked more worried now than she had when she thought Rick would parcel her up and deliver her to Negan. Her gaze drifted around the Church again, quietly scanning the worried faces of those gathered in the pews. She looked back at Rick, "We ain't got numbers for a fight."
"I know," he said solemnly.
My heart sank in my chest. Naomi wasn't wrong. There weren't many people in Alexandria, and many of them had been badly injured. Most, like Michonne, were barely recovered. There were kids here - Mia, Perla, and Carl - forced to grow up before their time. Putting them through another battle felt cruel, but what the alternative? Waiting here to beg Negan for mercy?
"We could head out to the Kingdom or the Hilltop?" I suggested. "We got a better chance of fighting them if we get all of the communities together."
"It's too dangerous," Rick said. "We can't risk them catching us on the roads like they did the first time. For all we know, they could be setting up blockades between the communities as we speak. They'll probably send groups to the Kingdom and the Hilltop, too."
All of us who'd been in the clearing that night couldn't help but think back on it. They'd snatched Naomi right off the road, used the roadblocks to steer the others into a trap. We couldn't let them have that advantage again but was it really better than sitting here and waiting? The more time we wasted talking about what to do, the longer the Saviors had to set up as many damn roadblocks as they wanted.
The question of whether or not it was my actions that had let them out rose up in the back of my throat, but I couldn't bring myself to ask it. So, instead, I asked, "You think they'll hit all them places?"
"I think they'll hit all three places at once," Rick said. "It's not just about what Noami did to Negan. They'll be looking for an answer for what we all did to the Sanctuary. That makes the Kingdom and the Hilltop a target just as much as Alexandria."
"Do the other communities know that the Saviors might be on their way?" Naomi asked.
"They got the same warning we did," Rick said. "Our lookouts had to move for their own safety once the Saviors got out, but it looked like they were arming themselves. I doubt they'll come here to surrender."
"So, we wait for 'em?" I snapped. I was already real tightly wound, and the lack of a proper plan was only making things worse. "You want me to go paint a damn target on the gates? Give them something to aim at?"
"I'm not saying that," Rick said.
"We gotta leave," Naomi said. The hint of desperation in her voice tugged at something deep in my heart. I knew she'd have looked around at all of these people and seen them as lives that needed saving, not potential soldiers. "Daryl's right; we can't just sit here."
"It's too dangerous to leave," Rick said again.
"It's dangerous to stay," Naomi countered. "One breach in the walls is all it would take. It'd be like when the Wolves attacked us. Worse, even."
"The sewers," Carl interrupted us, just blurting it right out like we were supposed to know what the hell that meant. Everyone turned to look at him. "We could hide out down there for a while. It's big enough to fit all of us, and they lead out of Alexandria if we do need to escape. I hid Siddiq down there for a while."
All attention now turned to Siddiq, who still hadn't entirely convinced me that he wasn't some kind of mole working for Negan. He cleared his throat, glancing nervously around at all of us like the wrong answer would get him shot. "Yeah. It's not comfortable, but it could easily fit all of us for a day or two if need be."
"It's possible," Rick said. "But if they break the gates down or scale the walls and search the place, it would only take one of them to find an entrance. They could have us surrounded before we knew we'd been discovered."
"Not if they think we've fled," Naomi said, and I knew from the light in her eyes that this was it. This was the plan. She believed in it, so I did too. I didn't need anything else to get on board. "They won't search so hard if they think we've made a break for it."
"If they find Alexandria empty, who's to say they'll assume we've fled?" Rick said. "They could tear the place apart anyway."
"That's why they have to see what they think is us making a break for it," she said.
"Like a decoy?" I asked. She had a habit of getting three steps ahead of herself, her thoughts moving so fast it was hard for her to go backward and explain. Thankfully I had a lifetime's worth of experience running to catch up.
"Yes!" her face lit up a little, and it felt incredible to be back on the same team. "A decoy."
"Bust out of the back with a few people in as many vehicles as possible," I said. "If any Saviors try to follow us, we can gun them down and get back into the sewers through one of the points outside Alexandria. Any other Saviors find the vehicles, it'll look like we killed their friends and hid out in the woods."
"It's a good plan," Rick said. "But they could still burn the place to the ground."
"They could," Naomi agreed, but she didn't much look like the thought bothered her. "They probably will."
"But our people will be safe," Carl said. "We can rebuild - here or someplace else, it doesn't matter. But we can only do that if there are people around to rebuild it."
"Sacrifice the town, save the people," Naomi agreed. I was surprised she was so relaxed about it. She'd been so scared of losing her home again before all this.
"Otherwise, what's the point in all this, Dad?" Carl asked. "When this war is over, there has to be something after."
"It's a good plan, Carl," Rick put a hand on his son's shoulder, a brightness in his eyes. Surprise at how smart his kid was, how fast he was growing up. It's easy to get so caught up in the aggression of a war that you focus more on taking down an enemy than keeping your people alive. I'd been on both sides of that. I wanted the Saviors to burn for everything they'd done and didn't much care how many of them died or how "innocent" they might have been in torturing my girl and me. Anyone who followed a guy like Negan deserved what was coming.
But my girl was here now.
Mia was here.
Carl and Judith were here.
The fear of a battle that hurt any of them was stronger than my hatred of the Saviors. If the Kingdom and the Hilltop survived whatever the Saviors were going to throw their way, we could regroup and have a second shot at this. It felt like a good plan, and most folks agreed.
We all started filing out of the Church, heading off to gather supplies. We'd have to store some of them down where we planned on hiding out, in case we had to be there a while, but we'd also have to load enough into the decoy vehicles so that if the Saviors searched them, it would look like we were making an honest break for it.
"Naomi!" someone yelled her name from the crowd of people. We stopped where we were on the Church lawn and turned to see Perla waving frantically at us from the doorway. Naomi called back to her, and then Perla disappeared into the crowd for a moment as she ran toward us. We waited for her, and then before I could even blink, Naomi had her wrapped up in this great big hug. Everyone was tense and on edge about what was coming next, but Perla looked almost as scared as she had when she'd found me out on the road. If Naomi was hoping for more of a reunion, the wide panic in Perla's eyes made it clear there wasn't time for any of that.
"We need to move Lucas," Perla said urgently, her gaze flickering between Naomi and Mia. "He won't be able to get to safety on his own."
Lucas. I could never hear that name without a familiar spike of jealousy. I'd done my damndest not to think about him, and I hadn't seen him fighting anywhere, so I'd quietly assumed that he'd succumbed to his injuries and hadn't asked any follow-up questions because I hadn't wanted to know either way. If he was dead and a part of me was relieved, I'd have felt guilty about that. Except now, I felt like even more of an asshole because, if what Naomi said was true, I'd never needed to worry about her feelings for him. She'd loved me all along.
It seemed like Naomi had made a similar assumption, given that I hadn't told her anything about him. The mention of his name caused a sharp intake of breath. She was shocked but happy about it. I tried not to read anything into it. Even I didn't have time to deal with myself being a jealous weirdo right now.
"Lucas is still…" she trailed off for a moment, clearly not wanting to say 'alive' while sounding so surprised. "...here?"
"He lost a lot of blood," Mia told her matter-of-factly. "One of the Saviors shot him with-"
"Yeah," Naomi said, clearly trying to move past this part. "I was there. It was right before Negan got me. Did he make it?"
I wondered if she'd cut Mia off because she didn't want to remember that day or because she didn't want to be reminded who it was that had put that bolt in her friend. Working with Dwight must've been a bitter pill to swallow. I still didn't understand everything that must've gone down in there, how he'd gone from shooting Lucas to bringing us secret messages to helping her break out of there. It was all just even more questions we didn't have time for.
"He was unconscious for a few days," Perla said, able to give more detail than Mia as she'd probably been at his side for the whole thing. "Denise didn't know if he'd pull through, but eventually, he woke up. He's still weak. He can't use his left arm. Denise doesn't know if he'll ever be able to."
"Where is he?" Naomi asked. "Why wasn't he at the meeting?"
"He can't move around much without getting sick," Perla said. The more she talked about it, the more she panicked and the faster she spoke. "It was hard for Denise to get his bleeding under control. His wound reopened sometimes… it got infected after a while, and… I think he's better but still not well. If we have to go into the sewers, I don't think he'll be able to-."
"Hey," Naomi interrupted her gently. She'd taken a beat to process all of this new information and now bent down to Perla's level to look her in the eye. "It's going to be okay, kid. We'll help him get down there, make sure he's safe and comfortable. We'll grab as many medical supplies as he needs. He'll be fine."
If any of the fear Perla had was affecting Naomi, she didn't let it show. She sounded so calm and reassuring that Perla had no choice but to believe that everything was going to be okay. I watched them have quieter conversations filled with plans on how best to support Lucas. Mia joined in, but I barely took in any of it. I just watched Naomi take two frightened kids and fill them with enough confidence to help out, and I couldn't help but think about how she'd make a great Momma. The minute the thought hit me, I did my best to squash it down again. Not only was now not the time for dwelling on shit like this, but we'd also gone from 'taking it slow' to 'I love you' faster than I could have dreamed. Jumping right to 'hey, do you want kids?' would be too much. It would probably send Naomi running so fast she'd leave a Naomi-shaped hole in the walls of Alexandria like a damn cartoon.
"Daryl?" Naomi's voice brought me back down to earth with a weirdly guilty jolt like she'd caught me out thinking something I shouldn't have been. She was looking at me expectantly. Mia and Perla had their backs to us, walking off in the direction of Lucas's place. Maybe she wanted to know why I hadn't told her her friend was still breathing.
"I didn't know he was still alive," I said before she could get too mad at me for not telling her. "I should've checked, but I was too focussed on getting you out of-"
"It's fine," she assured me. "I'm just checking in. You were all… staring off into the distance, and you had this look on your face like-"
"Just thinking about what might happen next," I said, which wasn't strictly a lie. I'd been thinking of a future of sorts, but I was happy to let Naomi assume that it was to do with the upcoming fight.
"You happy to help us with Lucas?" she asked tentatively. "I know you guys aren't exactly-"
"Yeah, I'll come help," I said. I didn't want to be reminded of how shitty I'd been to Lucas before he'd got injured. She took my hand as we started walking after the two girls.
"You sure you're okay with this plan?" I asked her. As we walked through Alexandria, it was hard not to think about how many of these buildings might be nothing but rubble by tomorrow. "That they might burn the place down?"
"Of course I am," she shrugged. I still couldn't believe how relaxed she was about it when she'd fought so hard to help me settle in here. The fear she'd have over losing this place to the Saviors when all we'd heard of them was the name 'Negan.'
"Thought this place was your home."
"Yeah," she said, but there was a non-committal note in her voice that I wasn't expecting. "It's been a good home, but they're just buildings. As long as I got you and Mia with me, anywhere we go from here can be home. Let it burn."
It meant so much to hear that I couldn't say anything back. I gave Naomi's hand a squeeze and hoped she understood. She glanced at me and smiled. I tried to think of something to say to describe how she made me feel, but nothing came close. All too soon, and before I had the chance to say anything, I heard someone yell our names.
It was Rick. I felt myself get tense again, mostly because it was Naomi he seemed fixed on.
"I am really sorry for the way things played out at Sanctuary," he said to her.
"It's okay," she said, brushing it off like an apology was a ridiculous thing for him to do after telling an army to open fire on the place she was standing. "I get why you did it, and I'm fine. I got out. We're good."
"I'm glad to hear that," Rick said. "And I meant what I said about not giving you up to the Saviors. You're family, and we'll look after you."
Naomi was as surprised by this as I was. Since she'd found us starving and dehydrated out on the road, I'd desperately wanted her to become as much a part of my group as I was. I'd wanted her to merge into that family, finally join the most important people in my life together. But things were different now. Rick had lied to me, withheld information so that I'd follow his orders instead of thinking for myself. Told me what I wanted to hear to keep me placated. What if that's all he was doing now?
Kids like Naomi and me don't grow up with the kind of family folks like Rick did. We can't count on anyone, but we look for that kind of security anywhere we can. Naomi and I got lucky when we found it in each other. I got lucky all over again when I found another family in a quarry outside of Atlanta. But Naomi's group had all been killed in Terminus. Before that, she had Momma who disappeared in a drug haze every few weeks, and a Daddy who never stuck around to know her name. She'd formed very few lasting connections to people. Hearing that Rick thought of her as part of our family would mean more to her than Rick could ever have understood, but I could see it written all over her face. The soft brightness in her eyes of barely held-back tears at the overwhelming feeling of belonging, of being included by someone.
So, if this was a trick to get her to follow Rick without questioning him, it was a dirty rotten one.
"Thanks, Rick," she said, a little choked up. My sinking heart steeled.
"We should go check on Lucas," I said. If he was manipulating her, I didn't want him to be able to get his claws any deeper. He better have meant what he said.
"Yes," she said, immediately snapping back into action. She looked at Rick, "We're going to try and get him down there, get him comfortable. I sent Mia and Perla ahead of us. I should go in and check they haven't talked his ear off. "
"Alright," Rick said with a half-smile.
"We're good, though," she assured him. "No hard feelings here." that."
"I appreciate that," Rick said. I caught his quick glance at me. Naomi followed it.
"You coming?" she asked me.
"You go on in," I told her. "I'll catch up in a moment."
She studied my face for the briefest of seconds. I did my best to look calm. I knew she was worried about the hit my friendship with Rick had taken while she'd been away. I wasn't looking to start a fight, but I wanted to make it crystal clear to Rick that shit was different now.
"Okay," she said, clearly satisfied that a brawl was unlikely. I waited until Luca's front door closed behind her.
"Are we good, Daryl?" Rick asked. He'd clearly been waiting for the door to close too.
"That depends," I said. "If what you said just now was some kind of trick-"
"It wasn't."
"If it was," I said like he hadn't even spoken. I didn't much care what he had to say for himself. I needed to know he'd heard me. "If you're going to use her or stab me in the back again-"
"I'm not."
"If anything happens to her and there's even a slight chance that you had some part in it, I'll kill you."
Rick nodded. He was quiet for a moment, thinking something through.
"I am truly sorry for how things went down before," he said. "But you are my brother, and she's your girl. That makes her family. I'm sorry I didn't see things that way before. You gotta trust I'm not gonna hand her over to Negan. I almost gave Michonne up to the Governor, and now I can't imagine my life without her. Even if she wasn't your girl, Naomi is strong. She's good, and we need people like here."
Maybe that was closer to the truth. Naomi had proved herself to him; she was useful, so Rick wouldn't toss her aside like garbage. I so badly wanted to trust him, but I would never let my guard down that way again. Not when it came to her.
"I'm sorry, Daryl," he said again. "Really, I am."
"Better be," I said and turned around to follow Naomi into the house. I loved Rick like I'd loved Merle, but I'd followed the wrong brother before. I wasn't going to be used like that again.
Inside the house, Lucas was sitting up on the couch, and Naomi was pulling away from what had probably been a long reunion hug. I was glad I'd missed it. I thought it would be easier to keep my cool now that Naomi was mine, but it's harder than you think to get rid of those kinds of feelings. Every time I looked at Lucas, all I saw was the kind of reliable, safe, well-adjusted guy that I'd have wanted for her in the old world. The type of guy she deserved.
Before I could spiral out of control, his gaze slid over to me, immediately wary. I don't like it when people look at me that way, but I can't deny he didn't have a good reason for it. The number of times I'd come close to punching him in the face over nothing…I was kinda surprised that he didn't ask me to leave the second I walked in.
She's yours, I reminded myself, as Naomi glanced between the two of us. For better or worse, she picked you.
"Hey, man," I said.
"Hey," he said, but that wary look was still there like he was just waiting for me to say something I shouldn't or run at him. To distract from the growing discomfort in the room, Naomi quickly launched into a summary of what we'd decided on in the Church. While she talked, I lowered my gaze to the floor and kept my distance. I didn't want Lucas to keep looking at me like I was some kind of threat. If she was going to keep being friends with this guy, I had to try my best to get along with him. I tried to reassure myself by remembering how much I liked Bryce the more I got to know him, but I couldn't deny that all of that had been made easier when she'd mentioned his former husband, and I'd realized they couldn't be together.
Lucas, on the other hand, was harder not to fret over. It was hard as well not to get paranoid about whether or not there'd been anything between them before Terminus. Or, if she'd never met me again - would anything have happened between them? Would she have been better off? Had I got in the way of something that could have been better for her?
Naomi had only wanted to fill him in and reassure him that he'd be taken care of, but Lucas insisted he wanted to help. Sensing a tough conversation ahead, Naomi distracted Mia and Perla by asking them to gather up the medical supplies Lucas needed and get them ready to move to the sewers. There were antibiotics for the infection that Denise was worried had moved to his bloodstream, antiseptic wipes for the deep wound on his shoulder that habitually reopened, bandages to dress it and tie up his immobile arm in a sling.
When the girls were distracted, Naomi tried to warn him against overexerting himself. I could see her getting distressed about it, so I stepped in and tried to warn him too, but that only made things worse. He seemed to take that as some kind of challenge. As we protested, he pulled himself out of his seat and what little color was left in his cheeks drained almost immediately.
Nothing we said made a lick of difference. Lucas carried as much as he could one-handed. Every trip back and forth caused him to sweat more and somehow get even paler until his skin was almost translucent. Everyone in Alexandria must've begged him to stop at least once, but he brushed them all off. I could see Naomi was worrying about it, so I kept a close eye on him. There was a growing dark patch from where an old wound had started bleeding again, seeping through his shirt. His breathing was so labored he sounded like a damn Walker.
There were no two ways about it; Lucas was in a bad way.
The day wore on with no sign of the Saviors, as we moved supplies from one place to another, set up blockades, and lined up our fleet of decoy vehicles. I think there was a growing hope amongst some people that they wouldn't show at all. But the rest of us knew better, and as the sun started to set, Rick stopped us and gathered us all by the gates.
"They're close," he said. Everyone gathered by the gates was tired and sweaty from a day filled with moving shit down into the sewers and loading them into the back of trucks. The light was failing, and we all had a long night ahead of us. "We gotta start finishing up and getting into positions."
There had been no discussion over what these positions would be, who would be in the decoy, and who would shelter in the sewers. Naomi stepped forward, and my heart sank a little.
"Depending on how they approach us, I think we should engage with them," she said. "So that they really think we're all waiting behind the walls and that we're fleeing.."
"You think they'll give us any warning?" I asked. "That they'll stop to chat?"
"Yes," she said. "I think they'll want to talk."
"Negan does love the sound of his own voice," Rick agreed. "Alright, I'll answer and try to keep him talking for as long as I can."
"That's dumb," I said. "You really think Negan's going to negotiate again after what we did? He'll probably blow your head off the minute he sees it at the top of them gates."
"He won't," Naomi said, and there was something in the confidence with which she said it that I didn't like. Like she knew him. "That ain't his MO, not as I understand it anyway."
"You think you understand Negan?" I asked. It came out sharper than I meant it to because of how uncomfortable I was about any amount of time they'd spent together. Every horrible insight she had into this was on me for not getting her out sooner.
"I know how he thinks," she said. She took a moment, thinking deeply about something. Looked like she was teetering right on the edge of a decision, and then she turned to everyone who was gathered there.
"Go on," Rick encouraged her, seeing she was on the verge of saying more.
"Negan doesn't want most people to die. He wants them to work for him," she said. "I think he'll want to talk, probably offer some kind of way out for us that suits him. If we refuse, he can attack, and the rest of the Saviors will think it's justified. When I was in there he-"
"Hey," I caught her arm, trying to get her attention. When she looked at me, I quietly said, "You ain't gotta tell these people shit. You don't owe 'em."
"It's fine," she said. "They should all know who we're up against."
I couldn't stop her, but I knew how difficult she found it to talk about things she'd been through, and it didn't feel worth upsetting herself over. She took another deep breath and addressed them all again.
"When I was in there, Negan kept telling me that I had choices, and I think he really truly believed that. But you know what they were?" she waited for a moment to check that people were really listening. There was no question about it; people hardly even moved. All hanging on her every word, but I couldn't tell if it was because they were paying attention to this warning or if they were nosy assholes prying for some gory details of what she'd been through. "It was; join him and have an easy life in Sanctuary."
It clearly wasn't the dramatic or gruesome answer people were looking for. There was another pause while she ordered the rest of her thoughts.
"Joining him would've meant fighting against all of you, killing some of you. That wasn't an option," Naomi said. "And that life in Sanctuary is only easy as long as you follow his orders to the letter. Negan takes whatever, or whoever he wants. There are half a dozen women in there who he calls his wives. None of them want to be there, but he would tell you that they are choosing to be with him."
A ripple of discomfort ran through the crowd.
"He ain't holding a gun to any of their heads," Naomi said, "but all of them have got someone they care about in that place. Some of them have husbands, boyfriends they met before coming to Sanctuary. You know what happens if they're caught with them again? Negan takes a hot iron and holds it to their boyfriend's face until the room smells like burning flesh, and they pass out from the pain."
While she talked about it, I could almost smell the stench that had filled the room when Negan had burned Mark's face. The piss I'd had to mop up after he'd passed out. Nobody listening to this could've known what that was like. But maybe the idea of it would be enough.
"So, if you don't comply with what he says, you might think you can take the punishment for it, but there's no guarantee you'll be the one who takes the beating," she said. A memory flooded me before I could shut it out. Naomi's pale and unconscious face pressed into the Sanctuary floor after my failed escape attempt. I felt queasy. "If he wants something from you, he'll find someone you care about, and he'll make life hell for them. Starve 'em. Keep 'em in a cell and only let them out to catch the Walkers outside the gates. Catch them, not kill them. Not defend themselves against them. They'll be in permanent danger, and he'll make you watch all of it because every bad thing that happens to them is on you. Because you said no to him."
She stole a glance at me. Her eyes were bright, like she was trying not to cry. Was that really what she thought? Had she seen me working the fence and blamed herself? I shook my head at her. Didn't want her beating herself up about it anymore. She'd kept her promise to me. I'd have taken a thousand Walker bites to the jugular to keep her out of Negan's arms.
"The only way to have an easy life in that place is to stop caring about everyone but Negan, and that's how he wants it. He will take what he wants, leave you with nothing and expect you to thank him for it. Unless you fight."
"I thought Negan was dead?" someone called from the crowd. "I thought you killed him."
"We don't know that for sure," Rick reminded everyone. He was quick to step in, a little too quick maybe.
"It doesn't matter if it's Negan or Simon or Gavin who shows up here. They are all Negan," Naomi said. "If he is dead, whoever has taken over from him will have to uphold the same ideas as Negan if they want to have any hope in hell of holding on to his power. At least for now, they need to be seen to be acting like Negan. Whoever comes here will make it sound like joining them is our only option for a good life. But I'm telling you now; it ain't no life."
When she was done talking, Rick smiled at her like he was proud, and I hated it. Was this what he'd wanted? Was this why he'd apologized, why he'd called her family? She was useful to him - someone smart and strong who'd suffered so much. A mouthpiece for his ideas, a martyr to his cause.
"Alright," Rick said when Naomi's story had settled deep into everyone's bones. "They'll be here soon, but we got this. I'll keep them talking. I need a few of you to-"
"I should be there," Naomi quietly interrupted him. She was very deliberately not looking at me.
"Hell no," I said. I either wanted her down in the sewers where it was safe or right next to me where I could protect her.
"It's the smartest play," she said. "No matter what happened to Negan, I'm the biggest distraction for them right now. I can buy us the most time."
"Okay," Rick said, and my blood boiled. No resistance. He looked at me, "Daryl, you lead the convoy out of the back-"
"No," I said.
"We don't have time to argue about this," Rick said. He was right; it would take centuries for me to talk Naomi out of this. All that was left was to support her.
"I ain't arguing," I said. "You're going to lead the decoy convoy, me and Naomi are going to be at the gates. That's how it's going to be."
Something hardened in Rick's eyes. He wasn't used to me taking charge like this. Hell, he wasn't used to anyone telling him what to do. Adrenaline spiked in my veins. I didn't know how he would react, but it felt good to step up like this. To back someone else running the show. Especially because I didn't like how he'd been running things lately.
"Me and her, we got this," I said, taking a step closer to Naomi, daring Rick to disagree. That girl could do anything; either he saw that and wouldn't disagree, or he didn't, and he'd been using her this whole time.
"Alright," Rick said, but I couldn't tell he wasn't happy about it. "I'll lead the convoy."
He selected a group of people to drive the other cars. There was a rush to get everything in place before the Saviors got to our gates. Things were going okay. It felt like we were almost ready. And then Lucas collapsed so hard I heard the sound of his body hit the ground from a few feet away. Mia yelled for me, but I was already running over there. I thought he might be unconscious when I got there, but he was barely holding on. His eyes rolled back in his head.
"Hey, you okay, man?" I said. The obvious answer was 'no', but he tried to push me away anyway. His hand slapped against my chest, but he was too weak to move me in any real way. I caught him under his arms. "Don't worry, I'll get you down. Lemme help you."
Reluctantly, he let me haul him to his feet. He leaned heavily on me. I called Naomi over, and she supported his other side. His breathing was heavy and strained. As we'd all feared, he'd pushed himself too hard, and now his body was suffering when he needed it the most. Mia and Perla watched on in nervous anticipation as we managed to help him to the top of the ladder down to the sewers. I glanced over at Naomi, "I'll go first, make sure he gets down okay."
Naomi and took his whole weight while I climbed down ahead of him. She helped him ease himself over the edge and get his feet on the first rungs of the ladder. His whole body was shaking like a leaf with the effort of it. His foot slipped, and he didn't have the strength to pull himself back up again. I grabbed his legs.
"It's okay," I yelled up to him. "I got you. Let go."
Lucas hesitated for a moment, hanging there and making a last-ditch attempt to do it himself. I felt for the guy. It's hard enough to be too sick to do something for yourself. It's even worse when you've gotta rely on someone you hate to help you out. He let go. I lowered him down and carried him further into the tunnel where he'd be safer. I laid him down as gently as I could. He rested his back up against the wall, gulping down air. His left arm was limp like a ragdoll.
"Thank you," he said, although there was a hint of bitterness there. Couldn't blame him, I'd have been frustrated if I'd been sick for this long, too. "I know you probably don't think I'm worth saving, especially now I'm sick, but I appreciate-"
"Hey, I'm sorry," I said as quickly as I could. It's easier to swallow your pride if you do it real fast. "For how I treated you before...it weren't right."
Lucas was quiet for a moment. I didn't know if he was waiting for me to say more or if he considered this to be too little too late. He glanced up at the dim light shining down from where the night was hitting Alexandria.
"Everything okay?" Naomi called down as if on cue.
"Yeah," I called back. "Be up in a minute."
I waited because it felt like Lucas had something else to say. Sure enough, after another second's thought, he said, "You love her, don't you?"
"Yeah." It was the easiest thing in the world to admit. He nodded.
"Yeah, I kinda figured that was why you were such an ass," he said with a heavy sigh.
"I am sorry," I said. For a moment, I thought he was going to keep grilling me, call me out for only apologizing now Naomi and I were dating.
"It's fine," he said with an air of the affable Lucas I was used to, and I felt a glimmer of light relief.
"Okay," I said, straightening up to leave. "Well, sit tight. We'll be down soon."
"Okay."
I started to head out, but something stopped me, nagging at the back of my mind. I knew if I didn't ask now, I never would. I paused with my hands in the rung of the ladder leading up.
"Hey, uh…" I cleared my throat. Weird how it always gets blocked up when I'm trying to say something I'd rather keep down. "Did you and Naomi ever… did you and she… er, y'know, before…"
"There was never anything between us," Lucas said with a tired smile. "If that's what you were trying to ask. She's a good friend, though, and she was a great leader for our group before… well, you know."
"Yeah," I said, knowing he meant Terminus, and I did feel like I had more of an idea about it since Naomi had opened up. Maybe, just maybe I'd been crazy to worry about Lucas being some kind of threat. Maybe instead of focussing on my own shit, I should've been grateful she had a friend to get her through it. "I'll, uh, take good care of her."
"I know you will," he said. There was another silence where it felt like he was going to say more, so I waited. "Naomi never seemed… available… romantically. I guess the best way I can describe it, it always kinda felt like she was taken. For a while, some of us thought she'd lost a spouse or something, but… she denied it. I never understood it, but I guess now I know why."
Me?
Does he mean because of me?
He gave me a small, tired smile like that was exactly what he meant, and I hightailed it out of there before I went so red I glowed in the dark. I climbed that ladder so fast I nearly crashed into Naomi at the top of it.
"Woah, slow down there," she laughed. I don't know if it was something in the way she laughed, or that big smile of hers, or that Lucas had just made the idea that she'd always been mine feel so real. Either way, the second I was up there, I took her face in both my hands and kissed her hard. I could taste her surprise.
"Woah," she said again, but it was a whole different kind of 'woah'. She looked back at me, all in a daze. "What was that for?"
"Felt like it," I shrugged, trying to play it cool, but she was grinning at me like crazy, and I knew I was doing the same back.
"You felt like it, huh?"
"Yeah."
"I should send you down into that sewer more often."
Before I could say anything else, a call rang out across Alexandria. Lights had been spotted on the roads, the Saviors were near. There was a scramble as those driving in the convoy headed to their assigned vehicles and everyone else scrambled to join Lucas in the sewers.
"Alright, this is it," Naomi instantly snapped back to her no-nonsense, getting-shit-done mode. She looked at her sister and nodded at the ladder I'd just climbed out of, "Get down there."
"No! I want to stay up here with you two," Mia said. No way in hell that was happening. I knew this would be something Naomi and I agreed on. Perla stood at the top of the ladder and looked down and then back up at Mia again. If we didn't deal with this fast, we ran the risk of both kids being above ground when the Saviors came.
"I know you do, kid, but I need you to look after Lucas," Naomi said, thinking fast. "He ain't well, and someone's gotta be there to make sure he's okay. I think it should be you two."
Perla nodded. Mia hesitated.
"Why can't-"
"I need you to do this for me, Mia," Naomi said. "I'm trusting you to look after him. Daryl and I will be right down as soon as we can."
"Okay," Mia finally gave in and leaned in to give Naomi a hug. "Please don't take too long."
"We'll be with you real soon," she said.
Mia hesitated and then hugged me too before climbing down to join her friend. Naomi slid the cover over the hole to shut it behind her. A hush fell over Alexandria. The houses stood dark and empty, maybe for the last time. Naomi straightened up and looked at me.
"You ready for this?" I asked her, holding out my hand for her to take.
"Ready as I'm ever going to be," she shrugged.
We walked, hand in hand, toward the gates. I could hear engines approaching, see a glowing light in the darkness beyond the gates as headlights grew closer. We stood just below the ladder up to the lookout post by the gates in complete silence. Alexandria was so dark and quiet that for a moment, it felt possible that the Saviors would think we'd already fled, turn around and leave us alone.
The engines came to a stop and then shut off. A heartbeat of pure silence and then car doors slammed in the night. I looked at Naomi, but she was staring at the gates, listening intently. Footsteps, too many to count, hit the ground. And then the gates shook as something hit against them.
"Anyone home?" someone called out from the dark. Naomi looked at me then, and she looked more frightened than I thought she would. I thought she'd be ready to go up to the lookout posts like we'd planned, but something had frozen her where she was.
"Don't sound like Negan," I whispered, mostly to reassure her, but it didn't seem to help. The gates shook again.
"That's Simon," she whispered back. "I think I might have made everything worse."
The fear in her eyes was so bright I almost missed the tears in the corner of them. I moved toward her on instinct. I didn't get it. If Negan wasn't here, that must mean he was dead, right? So, why was she so scared of Simon?
"Worse?" I said. "How'd you figure that?"
"Negan's an asshole, but Simon... he's something else," she said. Some of my confusion must've shown on my face because she took a deep breath and said, "Daryl, these bruises on me, they didn't come from Negan. Most of them came from Simon."
"On Negan's orders?" I said, but my blood was already boiling.
"Sometimes," she said. "Not always, not… so many."
She shivered like she was cold, but I knew that wasn't it. One of her hands absentmindedly shielded her stomach and that I thought about that bruise. That one that looked like a bootprint. Were the boots that had made it out there right now?
"Hey, assholes!" Simon yelled from beyond the gates. "Open up before I blow these damn gates down!"
Naomi moved when she heard that threat and started climbing the ladder up before I could ask her anything else. I followed right behind her. Whatever was coming next, two things were certain. First, we'd face it together. Second, after what she'd just told me, Simon was a dead man walking.
