Naomi

Warm water hit my head and back. Tension flowed out of my shoulders as I watched the water at my feet turn a dark reddish-brown. I bit back the urge to scream as it hit cuts that hadn't healed yet and braced myself for adding the sting of soap.

Some of Negan's blood had soaked right through Dwight's shirt and onto my skin.

Watching it all swirl down the drain and mix with mine was the first time I fully realized how much blood I was caked in. It was a miracle nobody had shot me thinking I was a Walker. It was a wonder Mia hadn't run away from me in terror. It was a wonder all of them hadn't.

It might not have been the best idea to tell someone you love them in this state.

It felt like my stomach was sinking down the drain now. There was probably a fair amount of that mess that was dirt too, I couldn't remember the last shower I'd had. Probably smelt like a Walker.

No wonder Daryl didn't say it back.

No, stop it, that's not why you said it.

I'd felt so calm when I said it, told myself that it was all about just getting it out. It was all I'd been able to think every time I looked at Daryl anyway. I'd sat in the car and tried to think of ways to avoid saying it, but it all felt so pointless. If the Saviors came for me and one of us died, I'd regret keeping my mouth shut. I thought if I got it over with and said it, I'd be able to go back to functioning like a normal human being around him. Hang out like we used to. But, here I was, hiding in the shower to avoid dealing with any of it.

After what I'd done at Sanctuary, there were questions to be answered and plans to put in place. Shit to get done. I knew this, and yet all I could think about was Daryl and whether or not I'd totally freaked him out. I'd have to face him alone again at some point. Maybe we could both pretend it hadn't happened, and things would be fine.

But that kiss… holy shit.

That. Kiss.

That kiss was so good it had messed me up. Turned me from calm and collected, sure of myself and my decision, to this obsessive mess who couldn't get out of the shower and face the real world.

Goddamn, Daryl.

I closed my eyes and shivered even under the warm water. He'd been treating me like I was made of glass right up until that moment. Every time he touched me, it was so gentle, so hesitant, it drove me crazy. Then he'd grabbed me, pulled me to him. I'd caught a fire burning in his eyes and felt that same heat on his lips seconds later.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't lose myself a little bit. For a moment, all I knew was Daryl. His lips. His tongue. His hands running across my back, my hips. Sure, he'd hit on a couple of bruises, but the small amount of pain that had caused was nothing compared to how damn good it felt to have him hold me like that. It was dizzying.

No wonder I couldn't think about anything but him.

A soft knock at the door pulled me sharply back to reality. My eyes snapped open to a room filled with steam. The water by my feet had probably been running clear for a while.

"Hey, you okay in there?" Daryl's voice floated through the door. He sounded worried.

"Yeah," I called back. "Out in a sec."

My heart was beating so hard it made me feel sick. I had no idea how long I'd been in there. I shut the shower off, grabbed my towel, and wrapped it around myself.

When I opened the door, Daryl was gone. Like I might have imagined his voice in the first place. As if the memory of that kiss was enough for me to daydream so hard I thought I was actually hearing him.

I could hear voices downstairs and wondered where the hell Eric and Aaron had gotten to. I hadn't seen either of them since I'd got back. I crossed the hallway to my old room. I assumed it was still mine, nobody had told me otherwise, and there'd be some fresh, non-bloodied clothes in there.

I stopped in the doorway. Daryl was in my room, and I wasn't expecting it. My heart skipped a beat.

"Oh. Hey," I said. He looked up at me for a split second and then swiftly away again.

Oh, God, I can't do this.

"Shit, sorry," he said and hurriedly turned around, so he had his back to me. "I was just, uh, laying some clothes out for you. I didn't mean to… uh, I'll... leave you to it."

He didn't move, kept his back to me. Clean clothes had been folded across the railing at the foot of the bed.

"Okay, thanks," I said from the doorway, expecting him to turn and walk past me. He still didn't move.

"I really did just come to check on you," he said, sounding weirdly nervous. "You'd been a while. Thought you might have fainted or something, and then I didn't know you'd come out of there so fast, so I was tryna help-"

"I know, Daryl," I said, taking a few steps into the room and trying to be as casual as possible. "It's fine. Really."

The second I moved away from the door, he moved too, inching toward it and doing his damnedest not to look at me.

"What's up with you?" I said, trying to lighten the mood. "You can drive a truck through a wall, but you can't look at your own girlfriend in a towel?"

The tips of his ears poking out from his dark hair turned a deep shade of red.

Please don't make this weird.

Call me a dumbass, an idiot. Anything that will make this normal again.

"Nah," he said, but his voice came out all gruff, and then he cleared his throat. "Just don't want you thinking I'm some kind of creep, is all."

"I don't," I said, and I wanted to laugh, but now that we'd drawn attention to it, I felt a little exposed in more ways than one. I tugged the towel tighter around me.

Is this his way of telling me I came on too strong, and he wants to dial it back?

Or stop altogether?

"Naomi, I-" Daryl stopped in the doorway, still with his back to me. I waited for as long as I could, but the silence stretched everything on, and each passing moment tightened the knot in my stomach.

"Yeah?" I said when I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Don't be too long, alright?" he said. I thought I saw him steal a glance over his shoulder, and his ears started to flush again. "Don't like it when you ain't around."

The way he said it made something in my chest ache. I wanted to say something back, but before I could get my head straight, he'd closed the door softly behind him. I heard the creak of his feet on the stairs.

What the hell was that?

I went to sink down onto the bed to collect myself and then realized there wasn't a mattress there anymore. Negan's doing, no doubt. Still finding ways to fuck with me even after I'd killed him.

Maybe killed him, I reminded myself.

It was weird to be back in my old room. Stranger still that I hadn't seen Aaron or Eric yet. The whole time I'd been in Sanctuary, I'd been thinking about the moment I'd get to go home again, and every time I'd pictured home, it had been the same as when I'd left. But things had changed here, and they were still changing.

I dried myself off and got dressed. I'd just started toweling off my hair as someone knocked on the door again. My whole body froze up. Was it Daryl? Back for more excruciating weirdness? I wasn't sure I could cope.

"Uh… yeah, come in," I called. The door opened, and Mia popped her head around it. I let out an audible sigh of relief.

"Daryl sent me up to check on you," she said with a small, apologetic smile. "Think he was worried you'd tripped on your pants, hit your head, and died."

"Nope," I said. "Just drying my hair. I can't have been more than five minutes, though, right? Are we in some kinda hurry I don't know about?"

"He just worries," Mia said, barely suppressing a laugh. Her grin was only widening. "And he's not wrong; you should let Denise check you over. Your hand is bleeding again."

I looked down at it. I'd been doing my best not to move it, but she was right.

"Shit," I muttered and took the towel I'd just been using on my hair to mop up the beads of blood that were rolling down my wrist. I glanced up at Mia. I'd known I would have to tell her about Daryl and me at some point, but I had no idea how to bring it up. We'd never had to have this kind of talk before. I concentrated really hard on wrapping my hand in that towel and tried to be as casual as I could about it, "So, er… while we're on the subject. Daryl and I are… sort of… well, we-"

"Are madly in love? Yeah, I know."

"Mia!" I said. I didn't really mean to, but even the word 'love' made my heart leap like I was on some kind of roller coaster.

"Alright, well, dating then. Is that what you want to call it?" she said. "Will that freak you out less?"

"Yeah," I said. "I guess that's more… accurate. How did you know?"

"Oh, c'mon," she rolled her eyes. "Do you really think I missed you guys making out outside the gates? Even the Walkers were waiting for y'all to get a room."

"Oh, God," I muttered, willing the ground to swallow me whole.

"And even if I somehow missed that," she continued. "I already kinda knew."

"Did Daryl say something to you?" I asked. Before the shit hit the fan, we hadn't really told anyone anything. We'd been too busy trying to muddle through something so new and yet so familiar. And it was still new, even if I'd had these feelings for longer than I'd known, acting on them was still proving… complicated.

"No, but I was there when Sherry and Jesus came back without you," she said. "I saw how cut-up he was about it. How hard he's been fighting to bring you back. I've heard how he talks about you, the way he looks at you… And before that, I watched you miss him for years. He's been missing you just the same. He's crazy about you. You have to see that, don't you?"

"You don't know that," I said. "You don't know Daryl like I do. He's... one of a kind. He doesn't get close to many people, but when he does, he cares more than anyone. It's intense, but it doesn't mean that he… that things will work out between us. And if they don't…"

"They will."

"If they don't," I talked over her. "I need you to know he'll still be there for you, and he'll want to be part of your life, even if he's not in mine. But if any part of this makes you uncomfortable, if even the idea of Daryl and I-"

"Don't you dare," she said.

"What?" I asked.

"Don't you dare put that on me," she said. "I know you spent a lot of time hiding relationships and not committing to anyone when I was little because you were worried about me. And I put up with it because I always thought you were secretly just waiting until you and Daryl made up. But I'm grown-up now, and I want you to be happy. Really happy."

I stared at her for a moment, and she stared right back like she was challenging me to disagree with her. I wanted to tell her that thirteen wasn't as grown up as she thought it was, but I knew it wasn't what she meant. She was old enough to take on Walkers, to fight in this war. She was mature enough to understand these things. Above all, she had inadvertently reminded me that it was okay if Daryl never loved me back. He'd still always care about me the same way he did now, and it would hurt, but I could live with that.

"When did you get so grown up?" I asked her.

She shrugged.

"Hey!" Daryl yelled up the stairs. "The hell's taking so long? She okay up there?"

Mia grinned and wiggled her eyebrows at me in a way that said I told you so. Then she turned and yelled, "Be down in a sec," over her shoulder. Daryl grumbled something neither of us caught and stomped off toward the kitchen again.

"Alright, let's go before he blows a fuse," I said.

"Yeah, you should get down there," Mia said. "Not just because Daryl's climbing the walls. You've got a visitor."

"A visitor?"

"Yeah," she grinned again. "Come see."

I followed her down the stairs, expecting Eric or Aaron, although I couldn't work out why Mia would call them 'visitors,' given that this was their house. But it was Bryce, leaning against one of the kitchen surfaces while Daryl paced around by the back door.

"Jesus, finally," Daryl muttered when we reached the bottom of the stairs. I ignored his complaints and focused on Bryce.

"Hello, stranger," I said. He straightened up. A big grin broke out on his face. "Long time no see. Sorry I didn't come visit. I got a little tied up."

"What are we going to do with you?" he said, pulling me in for a hug. "Do you think you can go five minutes without getting in some kind of trouble and giving the rest of us a heart attack, please?"

"No promises," I said, hugging him back. "What the hell are you doing in Alexandria? Did the King kick you out?"

"I brought Mia here," he said, but there was an odd pause before he said it. Like I'd accidentally stepped on something I shouldn't. Something sensitive. "I stayed to fight with the militia here, which… I guess probably saved my-"

"Alright, let's break this up," Daryl cut him off and immediately set off a thousand alarm bells. "We got places to be, c'mon."

I stepped away from Bryce and glanced between the two of them. The last time they'd been in the same room together, Daryl had looked like he wanted to rip Bryce's throat out for no reason. That hostility didn't seem to be there anymore, but I didn't miss the look that passed between them. Something was up. Something had happened, and they weren't telling me.

"He's right," Bryce said before I could grill either of them about it. "Let's get you checked over, yeah?"

Daryl had the door open faster than I could blink. Impatience was radiating off him. He turned and gave me a look that bordered on a glare before he realized I was doing as he asked and moving toward him.

Carl was out on the porch, heading up the steps. He tipped his dad's old cop hat to us as we came out. I greeted him, glad to see that he was alright after his own ordeal at the Sanctuary.

He smiled back. "Good to have you home. I was just stopping by to-"

"It can wait," Daryl told him. He put a hand between my shoulder blades and gently propelled me forward so I couldn't stop and talk.

"I heard what happened at the Sanctuary," Carl said. "We need to talk about it. About our next steps. My dad's not back yet, but if you wait a minute, Michonne's going to-"

"No. No more people," Daryl said flatly. "It's like a damn parade up in here as it is."

"Thought he'd be in a better mood once you got back," Carl muttered as Daryl hurried me past him. I turned and mouthed, 'Sorry.' I'd been prepared for this freakout. He'd been the same when I'd been injured at the first Savior Outpost. Once Denise had given me the all-clear, I was sure he'd calm down.

"You can ask her your damn questions later," Daryl said. "Right now, she's got a doctor's appointment, and y'all are keeping her from it."

He marched me over there faster than anyone else could keep up. Rosita was waiting outside the front door.

"Denise is away at the moment," she said. "But if you head in, there's a new-"

"The hell is she?" Daryl interrupted her.

"She has other patients. A lot of people got hurt in-"

"Go get her," Daryl did not let Rosita finish.

"I can wait, I'm fine," I tried to assure him and back Rosita up. I knew she was facing an uphill battle.

"If you'd just listen to me-"

"Go get her," Daryl said again. She started to say something in protest, but I never caught it because Daryl turned to me and said, "Wait inside, yeah?"

I wanted to argue, to push back and tell him that we had time to go over a few things with Carl while we waited for Denise. This wasn't any kind of emergency. I wasn't about to drop down dead. But I could see the fear in his eyes, quietly hiding behind his surly anger. I knew if the roles were reversed, I'd be just as afraid, so I held back every impulse to talk back and stepped into Denise's office. Daryl stood outside with his back to it like he was some kind of bodyguard. His argument with Rosita continued beyond the door.

Someone cleared their throat from inside the infirmary room, and I almost screamed. I whipped around and found a man standing by the infirmary bed. I didn't know him, and the sudden realization that I was unarmed almost sent me into a tailspin. I backed away from him. Every muscle in my body tensed up, nothing about this guy was threatening, but I was so used to fighting that it was impossible not to slip into that mode. Fists clenched and ready. Daryl's name rose in my throat, and I was so damn glad he was only on the other side of the door.

"Sorry," the man said immediately, raising his hands to show that he was unarmed. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"My name is Siddiq," he said. "I'm new here. I have some medical training, and I just… want to help."

Another change I hadn't prepared for, but now that I was calming down, it felt like a good one. Even in wartime, we could take in new people and grow our community. I forced a smile, but my heart was racing. Maybe I wasn't adjusting to being home quite as fast as I thought.

"Sorry… it's been… I've been. Well, I've had a… weird day," I said, realizing that it was far too long a story to bore this stranger with. "I'm Naomi."

"Rosita said you'd be here," Siddiq said, relaxing slightly. "You're the one who was taken by those people, right? The ones your people are fighting?"

"Uh… yeah," I said. I wondered if that's what I'd be to everyone from now on.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. He had kind eyes, and it seemed like a genuine question, but the truth was I still wasn't sure.

Well, I killed a man and told another man I'd been in love with him since childhood, so…

"Overwhelmed," I said, honestly. Didn't much feel like bearing my soul to this stranger no matter how kind his eyes were. His eyebrows shot up a little.

"Oh, I meant your hand," he said, pointing to my towel-clad hand. "And Rosita said something about your shoulder, too?"

"Oh, right. That." I said, feeling like a bit of an idiot. I started to unwrap the towel from around my hand. Siddiq took a step forward. "Yeah, it hurts, but it's not so-"

Before I could finish, the door burst open, and Daryl stormed in, gun raised and yelling, "Step away asshole!"

Siddiq jumped back, raised his arms again so Daryl could see he was unarmed.

"Daryl, it's okay," I said.

"The hell are you doing?" he snapped at me. "You don't know this guy. He could be working for Negan."

"I think if Negan was going to come and get me, he'd send more than one very polite man," I said.

"Yeah, that's what he'd want you to think," Daryl said. He gestured to Siddiq with his gun. "Get on your knees."

Rosita rushed in after him. "Daryl, stop!"

"My name is Siddiq," Siddiq said, very calmly dropping to his knees. "I just arrived here. I have medical training."

"Just arrived, huh?" Daryl said. "That's damn convenient. How'd you find us?"

"Daryl, I told you," Rosita sighed. "He-"

"I ain't asking you," he snapped, his eyes still on Siddiq.

"Your little girl," Siddiq said. His voice was level, calm. "Mia. She helped bring me here. Carl, too, you guys know him?"

"Mia!" Daryl called, not taking his eyes off Siddiq. "Get in here."

"Why, what's…? Oh, my God," Mia stepped through the doorway, her wide eyes flickering between Siddiq and Daryl's gun.

"Stay by the door," Daryl barked at her so loudly she jumped. "You know this clown?"

"Carl met him when he was out with Rick. I helped bring him back here," Mia said. When Daryl didn't say anything, didn't lower his weapon, she turned and looked over her shoulder. "Ain't that right, Carl?"

Carl joined her in the doorway, "Yeah. You tagged along, I guess."

"Tagged along?" Mia repeated. "That Walker would've got your ass if it weren't for me."

"I had it under control," Carl said, while Mia shook her head behind his back.

"I just want to help," Siddiq said. "I have medical training. I can help Naomi."

"Alright, fine," Daryl said. He glanced back at Rosita, Mia, and Carl. "Y'all get out."

Mia looked like she wanted to argue with him but didn't dare. Her first real taste of what it was like to have Daryl care about you and scream in your face at the same time. She looked at me, and I wiggled my eyebrows in an imitation of her 'I told you so' look. She and Carl ducked out of the door.

"Can I… get up now?" Siddiq asked, glancing from Daryl to me and back again.

"Yes," I said quickly before Daryl could start interrogating him again. Siddiq got to his feet. Daryl lowered his gun but did not put it away and did not leave the room.

Siddiq looked at me, "Are you okay with him being in here?"

"We don't know you. I ain't leaving," Daryl said. He was itching to raise his gun again, I could tell. A little tension in his jaw, a slight flex in his arm like if he couldn't shoot the gun, he might throw a punch.

Poor Siddiq was still trying to hold up his end of a semi-professional conversation. "It's just doctor-patient confident-"

"It's fine," I said, trying to diffuse this before it could blow up in our faces. "Honestly, he can stay. It's fine."

Siddiq checked me over while Daryl stood, arms crossed and glaring at him from the corner of the room. I could see Siddiq trying to ignore it, but it was difficult. I did my best to put him at ease and hold back even the tiniest hint that anything he did hurt me. Even when he cleaned out my cuts with something that stung more than the soap in the shower. Even when he put stitches in my palm. I gritted my teeth and smiled through all of it.

"There," I said when he was done, "good as new."

Daryl looked skeptical, glanced at Siddiq. "You sure there's nothing else wrong with her? Don't need to keep her in here for a while?"

"No," Siddiq said, "She's all ready to go."

"Thanks, Siddiq," I said.

"It was… erm, nice to meet you both," he said.

"You too," I said over Daryl's noncommittal grunt.

I pushed the infirmary door open with my good hand, desperate to get out of there before Daryl could demand we wait for Denise and a second opinion. Carl and Michonne were outside.

Daryl came out right behind me, instantly annoyed. "Slow news day 'round here, huh?"

"We have to talk about the Saviors," Carl said firmly. "And what we do next. My dad's still not come home-"

"Saviors are trapped in there," Daryl said. I felt his hand on my back again. "They ain't getting out. You're dad's fine… go home. Both of ya."

I didn't budge. I looked at him. "We should talk about it. We should make some kind of plan."

"Not you," he said. "You gotta rest."

"Siddiq never said anything about that," I said. I looked back at the others. "Any word from the snipers around Sanctuary?"

"Nothing," Michonne said.

"See," Daryl said. "Everything's fine."

"And Rick?" I asked, ignoring him. "Where did he go?"

"To ask the Scavengers for help," Michonne said. "But he's been gone almost a day."

I could see the worry in her eyes, hear the way she tried to suppress it in her voice. For Carl's sake. Maybe a little for her own too.

"Sure he's fine," Daryl said. He tried to tug me away again. "C'mon."

What's gotten into him?

His other freakout, I got. But not wanting to help Rick? Seemingly not caring whether or not he was okay? That wasn't like him. I looked at Michonne. "You know where they are? If you're worried, we could head out there."

"No," Daryl said. There was anger in his eyes. More than the irritability he'd had before, more than the protective fire he'd turned on Siddiq. This was new. "Rick wants to talk to them assholes. That's his business."

I was too dumbfounded to say anything. Where the hell had all this come from?

"I know you don't want to deal with this," Michonne said. I wondered how the hell she managed to keep a level head with the way Daryl was talking. If Rick had talked about Daryl like that, I'd have smacked him in the mouth. "But we need a plan."

"Fine," Daryl said. "But you're keeping her out of it."

He gestured at me. I raised an eyebrow, "Like hell you are."

"Hey. You gotta rest," Daryl said to me. "We'll handle it."

"I'm fine!" I said. "I think I got a lot to contribute to this, too. I had the misfortune of getting to know a few of those assholes Negan calls right-hand men. I know how some of them think. You're right; things might be fine, and everything might go to plan, but we need to prepare for the worst if they don't. If Negan's alive-"

"He ain't. You killed him."

"I think I killed him," I said. "If I didn't, and he gets out, he'll be coming for blood. Mine, specifically."

"You don't know that-"

"I took Lucille," I said. Just saying the name of that damn bat was enough to make me shudder. It was enough to shut Daryl up, even for a moment. "If Negan's alive, he'll want me to answer for that. And if he's dead, and they still get out, it'll be Simon who comes here. And he's… he might be worse."

"She's right, Daryl. We could use her insight on this. She knows these people better than-"

"No," Daryl stepped between Michonne and me. "Back the hell off. Keep her out of your damn plans."

Where the hell was all this coming from?

This wasn't like him, either. Or, maybe it was, but an older version of him. One who didn't trust people, didn't let anyone get close, and pushed away those who tried. I felt my heart sink as he brushed past her and stomped down the steps ahead of him. Michonne started after him, frustrated.

"I got this," I said to her. "I'll talk him down. We'll find Rick. We'll figure something out."

"We'll be at Deanna's old place when you're done," Michonne said. I nodded and chased Daryl down the steps.

Michonne had relaxed a little when I'd said I'd handle it, but the truth was I had no idea how to talk him down from this. It was worse than I'd expected.

I'd been expecting him to be tense and erratic. Overprotective and angry. But there was more to it than that. Felt like he was as ready to fight our friends as he was our enemies. Why didn't he give a shit about Rick? This wasn't like him.

"Daryl," I called. He glanced over his shoulder at me but kept walking.

"C'mon," he called back. He didn't slow, but it felt like he was leading me somewhere in a hurry.

"Slow down, will ya?" I said. He slowed and let me catch up. Daryl's jaw was set like he was ready for an argument. I could see that fight in his eyes. I tried to understand, be as gentle as possible. He'd been through a lot, too. Not just everything at Sanctuary but every fight afterward. I tried to keep my cool.

"You good?" I asked him. He lowered his gaze. This wasn't what he'd been expecting me to start with. I waited for him to respond.

"Nah," he said. "Not really. Sick of losing people."

"Yeah," I said. "Me too."

I could see the fight he'd been gearing up for leaving him, little by little. His arms unfolded. His shoulders were less tense. Was it fear? Was he too worried about Rick to even entertain the idea he was in trouble?

"Hey, look," I tried to sound calm. "I'm sure Rick's fine, probably just held up somewhere, but we can go-"

"Rick ain't my problem," Daryl snapped, his anger flaring up again immediately. I'd thought maybe offering to go with him would've taken the fear out of what he might find. "And he sure as shit ain't yours."

What the hell?

I stopped because Daryl had stopped at the top of a flight of stairs. Determination had set in his eyes, "I got a plan. C'mon."

He walked down the steps, and it took me half a second to realize where we were. This was the jail cell that Morgan had built. Did Daryl have someone down here? Why hadn't he wanted to tell Michonne? I half-expected to see he'd caught a Scavenger, someone we could trade for Rick's safe return. But there was nobody in there except us. Daryl closed the main door behind me.

"What are we doing here?" I asked, still searching the room for any clues. "And how does this help Rick?"

"Will you stop thinking about Rick for one damn moment?" Daryl crossed the floor, opened the cell door, and gestured to it, "Get in."

I stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"Get in the damn cell."

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"The Saviors wanna come get you, or anyone from Alexandria wants to hand you over and save themselves, they ain't getting to you," he said. "Not on my watch. I'm gonna be right outside that door, and anyone comes for you - Savior or otherwise - I'll kill 'em."

Crap.

I thought I'd been calming him down, but he'd lost it. He'd fully lost it. I didn't know how to handle this.

"Get in," he said again when I'd been silent for too long.

"No."

"Naomi!" his eyes flashed with anger. "I ain't asking."

"I ain't doing it!" I said. "You want to stop the Saviors from getting to me, let me fight them. What good is locking me up gonna do?"

"Stop you from leaving, that's what."

"I'm not going to leave," I said, wondering where the hell he'd gotten that idea. "I ain't running from this."

"I know you ain't," he said. "I wish you would."

"What?"

"C'mon, Naomi. I know you," he said. He looked sad to be saying it. "If Negan or Simon or any of them assholes pitch up here and tell you that they'll leave the rest of us alone if you hand yourself over, you'd do it. Wouldn't you? To save the rest of us."

"You don't know that's what's going to happen," I said, but I was avoiding the truth, and we both knew it.

"You said to be prepared for the worst, so that's what I'm doing. Get in."

When I didn't move, he put his hands on my shoulders and steered me in there himself. I didn't fight him, didn't push back.

"Daryl, this ain't right."

"You're staying here, where you're safe."

"No, Daryl. I'm not," I said. "Bad shit happens all the time. You can't just lock me up and hide me from the rest of the world to keep me safe. What kind of life is that?"

"Can't lock up the rest of the world. I ain't got a cage big enough," Daryl said, but I thought he was starting to see how unreasonable he was being. "I need to know that you're done throwing yourself into dangerous shit to protect everyone else. People who didn't lift a damn finger to help you while you were in that place."

"You know I can't promise that," I said. "Someone threatens you, or Mia, or-"

"Stop," he said.

"You'd do the same thing," I said. "To save me, or Mia, or anyone else here. I know you would. I know you, but you don't see me locking you up about it."

"Ain't the same."

"Why not?"

He didn't say anything.

"I get why you're freaked," I said. "But don't you think throwing me in jail is a little much? If the Saviors come, we've got a whole town of people here to help us fight."

"Nah," he said. "I'm done trusting other people to protect my girl."

My girl.

I tried not to fixate on it or get derailed by it. I'd never liked the thought of being anyone's anything, but there was something in the way he said it, and that it was Daryl saying it, that almost brought an inappropriate smile to my lips. I knew I couldn't let it show. He was still too mad.

"It ain't their job to look out for me," I said. "Especially not if it risks everyone else. Ain't your job either."

"I need you to stay here."

"Why?"

"Because I love you, dumbass! And if I lost you, I don't..."

He stopped as he realized what he'd just said. We both did. I hardly dared breathe. I was only just about recovering from the whole 'my girl' fiasco, and now this? I tried to make it sink in but couldn't. Nothing about me was sinking. Felt like I was flying.

"Shit," he muttered and sank down onto the bench. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the brick of the cell wall behind him. "I'm sorry… I didn't…"

Shit.

Didn't what?

Didn't mean it?

Didn't mean it in that way?

The silence dragged on. I could've thrown up. The ground felt like it was shifting underneath me, slipping away from me. Tilting like a ship in a storm, I didn't know how much longer I could hold on or if anyone would be there to catch me if I slipped.

"Daryl, please say something," I whispered. His eyes opened again, fixed on a spot on the floor in front of him.

"Weren't supposed to tell you like that, not in the middle of a big, dumb fight," he said. He sounded genuinely annoyed with himself. I could feel my hands shaking a little. I held them by my sides as steady as I could. There was still a big, dumb lump in my throat thanks to this big, dumb fight, and I was finding it hard to say anything at all. I knew I had to find my voice, Daryl was on the verge of closing up again, and I couldn't let that happen.

"What?" I asked. It was pretty much the only word I could get out. I had a million questions and absolutely no ability to ask any of them.

"Had it all planned out," he sighed.

"Had what all planned out?"

I had to be sure. Had to hear it again. He looked up at me.

"I found a… place I thought you'd like," he said. "I was gonna take you there. Bring some food for us. Thought I'd ask Eric to show me how to cook it up nice. I was gonna tell you then."

"Tell me…?"

"I love you," he said again. Deliberately this time. "Always have."

I couldn't stop the smile spreading across my face, but Daryl was still all caught up in being annoyed at himself.

"I wanted to do it right," he said. He cast his eye around the jail cell that he'd been trying to convince me to let him lock me in. It was too much to process all at once.

"Not like this. Not…"

"In the middle of a jail cell?"

"Yeah," he said. "And… wasn't planning on calling you a dumbass right after, either."

"I don't care about that, dumbass," I said. He smiled a little then.

"I wanted it to be perfect. You deserve that," he said. "Like a real date, y'know?"

"A date?" I repeated, shocked that the word had come out of his mouth, nevermind that he'd thought about it in relation to us. Every time I thought I was just about getting to grips with the last unexpected thing he'd said, he threw in something else.

"Yeah," he said, his ears turned red again. "Guess that's kinda corny, huh?"

"No, it's... you're..." I was at a loss for words. Didn't want to say anything that would make him more uncomfortable than he already was, but I had to find some way of letting him know how much this all meant. "I don't need anything like that. I don't need… anything but you. But… that's the sweetest damn thing I've ever heard, Daryl. I'm sure I'd have loved it."

"Yeah?" he looked at me with a quiet kind of hope, and I got in that one moment, how much his unfulfilled plan had meant to him.

"Yeah."

"Maybe we could still go some time," he said, and he shrugged like it was no big deal, but he was scrutinizing my face out of the corner of his eye. I could see all the nervous hope he still held there. "Y'know. When all this is done. If… if you want to."

"I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," I said. Daryl's smile was so contagious it spread to me. "I'd love to."

He nodded as an odd kind of silence settled down on us. Both of us more nervous than either of us had any business being talking to someone we knew so damn well.

I should kiss him, right?

I can do that now.

I knew we had other shit to talk about, things still unresolved, the root of his freakout was still a little out of reach, but I forgot about all of it. The way he was looking at me made it impossible to think of anything but him. It had been so long since anything had gone right for us, I'd forgotten how good it was to see him happy. I stood over where he sat on the bench and cupped his face in my hands, drinking it all in.

He reached up to touch my face, traced a line down from my temples. The skin on his fingers was a little rough, but his touch was as gentle as always. We looked at each other for a moment. I knew his face better than I knew my own, but it was different, being able to name that look in his eyes I'd seen so many times and never realized was love. It was new to be able to show it so openly myself too.

"Can't lose you again, Naomi. I won't," he said, his eyes growing serious. "I'll fight anyone who gets in the way of that, even if it means fighting you."

We faced so much uncertainty. But that was how things were now. I'd spent my whole life worrying and planning for a future that wound up being fucked up by something nobody could have seen coming. I was done doing that. Here we were in the middle of a war in the middle of a goddamn apocalypse. Nothing was certain. All that was guaranteed, all anyone could promise us was right now.

And right now, all I wanted was him.

I bent to kiss him, and he leaned up to meet me halfway. Soft lips, rough stubble. Warm hands ran through my hair, pushing it back from my face as he kissed me deeper. His lips parted mine to make way for his tongue, and I could taste love on the tip of it. Something I'd never felt before fluttered in the pit of my stomach. Sparks in my veins.

You'd think I'd have gotten used to it by now. Or at least have been prepared, but every kiss was electric. Surprised shivers with every light touch across my skin.

I was so aware of him. Sometimes, in the breath between kisses, I'd steal a glance at him. Because I still couldn't really believe it was him. Daryl. My Daryl. I knew him so well. But not like this.

I knew the smell of him, but not like this. Not so close.

I knew the feel of his hand on my back, but not like this. Not both of them. Running slowly down like his fingers were committing the shape of my body to muscle memory. They ran across my hips, joining at the small of my back and trying to pull me closer to the heat of his body. It was impossible to get any closer while leaning over where he sat on the bench.

I thought I knew every sound he made, had prided myself on being fluent in the grunts he sometimes slipped into communicating in. But the moan in the back of his throat when I climbed onto his lap? I'd never heard that before.

I thought I knew what it was like to be held by him; I'd hugged him enough times but not like this. His arms wrapped entirely around me, my chest pressed to him, his legs under my thighs. I wanted to get to know his body as well as I knew the rest of him.

The muscles in his arms tensed around me, gripping me tighter. He moved underneath me like he was about to stand up. I grabbed his shoulders, wrapped my legs around his waist as he lifted us both off that bench, and laid me down on the floor.

Daryl

Don't rush this.

Don't fuck it up.

I knew I should slow things down, but it was hard to stop. Naomi felt as good underneath me as she had on top. My hips between her thighs, her arms around my shoulders.

I'd thought it might have been hard for her to cross that line from friends to this. Thought she might need some time to go from thinking about me as her dumb, goofy best friend to being attracted to me in any kind of way. If she ever even could be.

But her kiss felt as hungry as mine, her hands running across my back and shoulders like she felt the same burning need that I did. To be closer to her, to get to know every inch of her. Couldn't think straight while she was kissing me like this, but I did not want to rush into anything. Couldn't push her into something she wasn't ready for and leave some sweaty, awkward mess. What if, after everything we'd been through, I messed it up enough for her feelings to fizzle out and this to fade to nothing but a fling?

I needed to think about this. Clearly.

I tried to stop kissing her, I swear I did, but the moment my lips left hers, I found them on her neck. She tilted her head back, whispered my name like it was a goddamn prayer. I wanted to answer it. I really did. I wanted to hear it again and again.

When she said my name like that, it sent a lightning bolt through me. A flash of raw heat right to my core, and those light kisses on her neck turned into something else. The taste of her skin between my lips, on my tongue. I felt the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened. Her hands in my hair again, and she whimpered.

Goddamn, Naomi.

You are making it so damn hard to stop.

That flash of heat rose in me again. Every sound she made, every small intake of breath, something buried deep inside me got hungrier. Something I'd starved for a very long time, and now every little taste left me needing more. More of her.

Don't rush this.

Don't blow it.

I stopped for a moment, looked back at her face. I'd had every intention of slowing this down, but then her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at me. When you're this crazy about someone, you have to hope that they'll stay sane. But it didn't seem like she would, and how could I resist those lips, those eyes?

She leaned up, caught my lips with hers in a kiss as fierce as she was, and I knew I was a goner. Didn't have a damn chance resisting her. The heat between us melted away any ounce of cool-headedness I had left, and that hunger rose up. Consuming me so I could devour her.

The material of her shirt got caught up in my fingers, hiding the curve down to her waist. I wanted to rip it off, to tear anything between us to scraps with my bare hands, my teeth, whatever I had to do to get closer to her.

Not yet.

Don't rush this.

My hand slipped under her shirt. Smooth, warm skin against my palm as I followed that curve back up her body. And then she flinched under my touch, a sharp intake of breath. Not the good kind. It wasn't pleasure, it was pain.

I sprang away instantly, looked at where my hand was hovering above a deep purple bruise at the bottom of her ribcage. There were others, smaller and less severe, that I'd probably hit on, but this one was fresh. And I'd hurt her.

"Shit," I muttered. This was exactly what I'd wanted to avoid. Exactly why I'd told myself to stop.

Fuck.

"It's okay," she said quickly, tugging down the bottom of her shirt to cover it up again. Trying to hide it from me like that would suddenly make me forget it was there. "Honestly, I'm fine."

"Don't look fine," I said. Now the shock was wearing off, the realization that the bruise looked like a bootprint started to sink in. Felt like my damn heart was bruised. All that passion in me quickly turned to anger. Not with Naomi, but I knew I'd have to keep it in check to stop myself from lashing out.

Shit.

"Sorry, I know it ain't pretty," she said and looked away from me.

"Nah, it ain't that," I said. I didn't care that she was bruised because of how it looked; I only cared that she'd been hurt, and the people who'd hurt her hadn't paid for it yet. "It's just… You're still hurting."

"I'm fine," she said like she always did, with a little smile like I was overreacting. Maybe if she'd quit underreacting, I wouldn't have to make up for it by going overboard. Her smile faded when I didn't smile back, and she said, "I'm not as fragile as you think I am."

"The hell you talking about?" I said. 'Fragile' was about the last word I'd use to describe Naomi, especially after everything she'd just done.

"Daryl, c'mon," she said. "You've been shutting down Michonne and Carl all day, trying to keep me out of any kind of planning. You haven't said a word about how any of those Outposts attacks went. I know that can't have been easy for any of you, but I gotta know what I missed while I was away. I can handle it."

'Away'... like she'd been on some damn vacation. I shook my head, "We can handle it, Naomi. You ain't gotta worry about shit."

"And don't think I've missed whatever's going on with Rick," she said like I hadn't even spoken.

"You know what's going on with Rick. He went to talk to the Scavengers," I said. "Michonne told you that."

She fixed me with that look that told me she knew I was bullshitting her. "Why don't you care that he's missing?"

The way she said it made my gut twist up with guilt. I did care. Of course, I cared, but I was still too mad at him to do anything about it. He'd lied to me, used me, that shit doesn't just go away.

"Rick made his choice," I said. "I'm done cleaning up his messes, and I'm done with him making choices for me, too."

"See that. That's what I'm talking about," she said. "What does that mean? Rick's like a brother to you."

"He lied to me," I said, and looking at her, I immediately felt guilty for falling for it. I should never have left her life in anyone's hands but mine. I shouldn't have taken anyone's word that she was okay. I should've waited to see it for myself. "Rick told me he'd get you out of there before we surrounded it with Walkers. Told me he hadn't seen you there at all. If I'd known… if I'd known he was going to open fire while you were standing there… I- I-"

I'm so sorry.

She deserved so much better from everyone here who'd left her in there, but mostly from me. I should've fought harder for her sooner and not been blinded by Rick's lies.

"Hey, it's okay," she turned toward me. Felt her hand on my cheek, gently guiding my face to look at her. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters," I said. I knew Naomi wouldn't see it the way I did. I knew she'd have forgiven me before I even apologized. I wished, just once, she'd get mad about shit she should get mad about. Even if it meant being angry with me.

"I survived it; I'm here," she said, resting her forehead against mine. For a moment, all I could see was her eyes. She was here. She was really here, holding my hand in the dark again like she was always supposed to be.

But it almost wasn't.

I pulled away from her.

"It ain't just that he lied to me. It's that he's been lying to me for weeks. About you," I said. "I thought things were different now the world was different, but it ain't. People like Rick, all them assholes out there, they still don't give a shit about folks like you and me."

"Hey, no. You know that ain't true," Naomi looked worried, but I couldn't work out why. "These people are our friends. C'mon, it's Rick you're talking about."

"I know who I'm talking about," I said. It was her who didn't have a damn clue, but how could she? She hadn't been here, hadn't heard the things he'd said. "When Negan came here with Sasha in that box, he had all these cuts and bruises on him. Said you'd done it. I thought for sure he'd kill you when he got back."

"I thought for sure he would too," she said quietly like she still couldn't believe he hadn't. "But he still thought I could be useful to him."

"He was still trying that?" I asked. It was crazy to me that with all the time he'd kept her, Negan has still managed to underestimate her so badly. "You'd never fight for a guy like him."

I thought she'd laugh at the idea too, or at least smile at how absurd the idea was, but she didn't. She shook her head.

"He didn't mean it like that," she said. "He thought he'd be able to use me to get between you and Rick. Tell me that asshole wasn't right."

The look she fixed me with was filled with dread, and my heart sank. Because, yeah, it had kind of worked. But had it worked because Negan was a manipulative asshole or because he knew Rick was? I didn't want to let her down; I had to make her see things my way so she'd understand why things had to be the way they were now.

"When I saw Negan escape from the fight here," I said. "And I thought he was gonna get back to Sanctuary and hurt you - kill you - I lost it."

"Shit, Daryl," she said. Didn't look disappointed, but that little worried crease between her eyebrows deepened. "What did you do?"

Nothing.

That's the problem.

"I wanted to bust right back in there and get you before he could lay a finger on you. I wanted to burn the place to the goddamn ground if I was too late to do anything. Who knows, I could've had you outta there a long time ago," I sighed, wondering how many of those bruises Naomi was covered in wouldn't exist if I'd just done the right thing from the start. "But I couldn't do anything because Rick locked me up in this damn place."

I glared around at the walls I'd spent a night punching, the bars I'd shaken, the door I'd kicked at. How I'd sat up against this same wall and wished she was with me. Now she was, holding my hand in the dark and giving me a little half-smile.

"Ah. So that's what gave you this bright idea," she said.

"Can't you be on my side for once?"

"I'm always on your side, dumbass," she said. "If Rick lays a finger on you, if he upsets you again, I'll give him hell."

"Yeah?"

"You bet," she said. "I'll smack that beard right off of him. But part of being on your side is reminding you how many other people you got in your corner. Rick is a good person, trying to do right by a lot of people, and he cares a hell of a lot about you. He did a shitty thing, but I'm sure he did it to stop you from doing something reckless. To keep you safe. And I can never hate him for that."

"You should. Should hate him for-"

"It doesn't matter to me if he's not thinking about me or if he don't-"

"Quit saying that," I snapped. "Course it matters."

"It doesn't," she said stubbornly. "Because I got you, don't I?"

"Of course you do."

"Then I don't need anyone else looking out for me," she said. "I got the only person I need."

"Pfft, you don't need anyone," I said, but her words had warmed my soul in a way I hadn't felt for a while. That angry flicker was doused immediately. "You got your damn self out of there."

"You got me out," she said. "I'd be dead in that place if you hadn't crashed that truck through the walls."

"Don't say that."

"It's true," she said. "And you can be as mad at Rick for lying to you as you gotta be. I'm sure it hurt, but it's still Rick, and he cares about you. It doesn't matter what he does, or what anyone else does, as long as we've got each other, we're golden."

I loved her so fucking much that for a moment, it left me breathless.

"I am so damn sick of the world trying to tear us apart," I said.

"Yeah. Me too," Naomi said. "This whole time we've been fighting things apart, but when the Saviors get here-"

"They ain't getting here."

"Alright, if the Saviors get here," she said like she still thought it was a massive inevitability that they would. "Y'know what they're gonna find? Me and you. Facing them together. Fighting them together."

It was contagious, her faith in us. Her determination. I felt myself smile again, "They ain't gonna know what's hit them."

"Exactly," she said, smiling back. "Course that only works if I'm not banged up in some jail cell."

"Guess I can let you out," I said. "Y'know, for good behavior."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon then, dumbass," she said. Not letting go of my hand, she pulled her feet under her to stand up. "Let's find the others."

She was in a good mood again, with no idea of the situation she was walking into. She was right. She'd missed a lot. There was a lot of bad news and heartbreak waiting for her on the other side of that door. I'd been dumb to think I could shield her from it.

"Wait," I said. I didn't move. Naomi hesitated, read the expression on my face before she sat back down. "You're right. A lot's happened since you've been in that place. You should probably know before we head back out there."

She looked expectantly at me. It was so much that I didn't even know where to start. Eric was the most important, but it felt too heavy. Too horrible. They'd been close. She'd already been looking for him and Aaron.

"Something went wrong at one of the Outposts," I said and watched her face flood with concern. "We lost a lot of people. Most of the Kingdom. Their fighters, at least."

"No," she whispered. Some of the color drained from her cheeks. I knew it was a difficult thing to come to terms with. Such a significant loss, all at once, was kind of hard to wrap your head around. "How bad was it?"

"It was a damn massacre," I said honestly.

"God," she said. "Poor Bryce, he must be just…"

"It was lucky he came here with Mia, fought with the rest of us," I said. "But, yeah, can't be easy for him."

I let her sit with it for a moment, let it sink in. Sometimes I think I watch her close enough; I can see her thoughts moving behind her eyes. Too fast for me to keep up with, but I try all the same. I saw the shock and pain that came with this kind of news. And then blind panic.

"Carol?" she asked, looking at me like she was terrified I'd fall apart like she was the one waiting to hold me together. "Did she fight?"

"She's fine," I assured her. She breathed a sigh of relief. "And so's the King. A couple of others, I think. But we lost a lot. If the Saviors get out, we might not have the numbers to beat them anymore. That's why Rick's gone to talk to the Scavengers."

"Makes sense," she nodded. "Anything else I should know?"

I knew she could tell by my face that I was still holding back on her. I didn't want to tell her. I wanted to keep anything like that - anything bad - from ever touching her again. Now I had to be the one to bring her this grief. It wasn't fair. Nothing about it was fair.

"Eric," I said, and got so choked up saying it, I wasn't sure I could say much more. But just his name was enough. I watched it hit her, saw her heartbreak in her eyes.

"No," she said, but her tears were already falling thick and fast. She believed me; she just didn't want it to be true. So I pulled her close, and I let her cry as long as she needed. Her body shaking in my arms, her face and hidden in my chest, the grief that washed over her was so intense I felt it too. Or maybe it just let mine bubble up. Gave me permission to feel it all over again.

This is love, I thought as I held her while we both fell apart a little. It wasn't about keeping all of the bad shit away from each other forever. It was about getting through it together when we couldn't. This is what it's about.

I'd have sat there forever if she needed it, but eventually, it passed enough for her to sit up and wipe her eyes. She took a few deep and shaky breaths to soothe her subsiding sobs.

"Aaron?" she asked. Her hands were shaking, terrified that I was about to give her more bad news. "Is he-"

"He's safe," I said quickly. It would've been a lie to say he was okay, given what he'd lost. "He's at the Hilltop."

"I want to see him."

"Yeah. I do, too," I told her. "We'll go as soon as it's safe."

"Okay," she whispered.

"You good?"

She nodded, wiped her red-rimmed eyes again, and took a few more deep breaths.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked. "You should've told me before we even got in the car to get back here. I hugged Bryce and joked around with him, while all the time he was dealing with this horrible..."

She trailed off, unable to put it into words. If she'd seen herself, drenched in blood and soaked in shock, she'd have understood why I didn't tell her anything right away. Although it wasn't why I'd tried to keep them from her now. Not really.

"Trust me, getting you back has been a breath of fresh air in this whole shit storm," I said. "For all of us. But, I'm sure Bryce especially was glad to have a moment of just being… normal again."

"It's nice you ain't trying to bite his head off anymore."

"Yeah, he seems like a good guy," I said, relieved that I could finally stop feeling like a jealous weirdo. Around Bryce, at least, I wasn't sure how I'd cope if some other asshole cropped up.

"He is," she said. She fell quiet again, still reeling from everything she'd learned. I hated that this was how her first day back home was playing out. This should have been something happy.

"I didn't keep this from you because I thought you couldn't handle it," I said. I didn't want her thinking otherwise. Didn't like that she'd thought that was why I was doing it in the first place. "Or because I think you're weak or any of that."

"No?"

"Nah. You're the strongest person I know."

"C'mon-" she rolled her eyes slightly, immediately dismissing that title.

"Nah, I'm serious," I said. "I know what you've been through. I didn't tell you because you were happy. Being back here, being back with Mia. I thought I could give you one day. One damn day where you don't have to fight or grieve, or any of that bullshit."

"You don't get to decide that," she said. "None of us do. We could still be right in the middle of this thing. Can't just take a break."

"I know," I said. "But you ain't gotta do everything by yourself anymore. You can let me handle some shit. Let Michonne and Carl and everyone else deal with things too."

"I know that," she said.

"Do you?" I asked her seriously. "Because you've been fighting on your own for so long, I'm not sure you know how to stop. How to let anyone else take care of you, fight for you."

How to let me fight for you.

"I wasn't in Sanctuary that long."

"I mean before all of this. When we was little, when you moved away, you've never needed anyone. Not even raising Mia," I said. All the guilt I felt from how I turned my back on them both, picked drifting around with Merle over swallowing my pride and fixing things with Naomi, bubbled up. It would probably never go away, but at least now I had the chance to make up for it. "She's perfect, by the way. Mia. She's smart, brave, wasn't afraid to give me hell when I deserved it, saved my life too when I was out of bullets."

"I can't take any credit for that," Naomi tried to brush it off with a casual smile. "She was born that way."

"No, she wasn't," I said firmly. I remembered the small and perfect bundle of blankets that had been Mia at a few days old, but there was a lot that had gone into making sure that she grew up to be the kick-ass little girl she was now. "She was born to a drug-addled Momma in a place that gives up on kids like her. Kids like us. Kids who don't have shit. But she had you, and you pulled her out of there, just like you pulled yourself out, just like you tried to pull me out. You did all of that on your own."

"She had us, Daryl," she said. "Don't think I've forgotten how much you watched her when she was tiny. How you looked out for her when I was at college. The good in her is as much you as it is me."

"Bullshit."

"I can only be as strong as I am because of you," she said. "You always believed in me, trusted me. That was enough to make me feel like I could do anything."

"That's dumb," I said. "I only believe that because it's true."

"Every time I doubt myself, it's your voice that I hear telling me I can do it. Telling me that I'm a dumbass for thinking I can't. That's what kept me going- in Sanctuary, in DC, through the world ending. You are such a part of me that even when I'm by myself, I never really feel alone," she said. And then she looked at me. "I know that probably sounds crazy."

"Nah," I said. "Not to me."

"Good."

We sat in a comfortable and comforting silence for a moment. Back together, the way we should be. She was right; things weren't settled yet. But maybe one day there would be. Maybe one day we'd get more of this. Just me and her; no grief, no fighting, no bullshit. One day, but not today.

"We should probably head back to the others, huh?" I said. I didn't want to say it. I wanted to keep her to myself a little while longer, but I knew I couldn't. Even holding her from Mia for this long felt selfish.

"Yeah," she nodded.

"C'mon then, dumbass," I said. Naomi smiled.

I stood up off the floor, waited for Naomi to get to her feet. She took a moment to rub her eyes again, make sure that nobody but the two of us would know she'd been crying. She pulled her hair away from her face, and I caught sight of a red mark on the side of her neck. New. It hadn't been there before. About the size of a kiss.

Shit.

Did I do that?

She caught me staring at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah… I think I... you just… uh, got a mark right here," I said and pointed at the same spot on my own neck.

Her frown deepened, and one of her hands reached up to touch it. Her fingers found it almost immediately, and her eyes widened as she realized what it was. "Daryl Dixon, did you give me a hickey?"

"Think I might have done, yeah," I said, feeling my face turn red. "Sorry."

"Not a complaint," she shrugged, a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Just good to know."

She brushed her hair over her shoulders with her fingers, obscuring it from view a little, but I still knew it was there. Could see it if I looked for it. I'd always sworn I'd never leave a mark on her, that if my temper ever got the better of me, I'd leave her before I hurt her. I expected the sight of that little red mark to fill me with self-loathing, but it didn't. All I felt when I looked at that was the thrill of the certainty that she was mine.

"Didn't hurt you, did I?" I asked, just to check. I needed to know this weird pride I got from seeing it was okay.

"No," she said, and a little shyness crept into that smile. It wasn't like Naomi to be shy, not with me. "It felt… good, actually."

Goddamn, I wish you hadn't said that. Now I want to do it again.

Her eyes met mine again, and that shy little smile spread from ear to ear. Spread to me. It was like time stopped for a moment, or maybe we stopped, and it kept moving without touching us. A frozen moment. Me and her, smiling at each other like goddamn fools.

"C'mon," I took her hand again. I knew if I didn't, I'd kiss her again, and who knew how much time we'd lose then? How swept up I'd get?

We walked hand in hand out of the jail cell and back through Alexandria.

"I, uh, told Mia," she said as we walked, "about us. Is that okay?"

"I ain't hiding anything," I shrugged. I was too far gone to play it cool, too happy to keep it quiet. Could've yelled it from the rooftops. Naomi didn't look at me, but I caught her smile, and she squeezed my hand.

Michonne and the others were at Deanna's old house. Carl was turning a walkie over in his hands, so I knew there'd been no word from Rick. Naomi let go of my hand and walked over to Bryce. I tried not to eavesdrop on her hushed condolences. Michonne scrutinized me with narrowed eyes, trying to see if I was about to fly off the handle again. I gave her a small, apologetic smile, and she relaxed.

We agreed to give Rick a little more time before we went looking for him. After his car had been busted during our roadside fight with the Saviors, he'd be on foot, and unless he managed to find another vehicle, he could be a while. The sun was about to set; if he was out there, it probably wouldn't be long before he found somewhere to shelter for the night. We'd start searching for him in the morning. When we found him, we'd carry out the final attack on Sanctuary. They'd surrender, I was sure of it.

Michonne had drawn up plans to up the security around Alexandria. Just in case the Saviors got out. In case they came here again. She increased the number of lookouts and lookout spots. Naomi tried to volunteer for one of the first shifts but stopped when she saw the look on my face. This time, when I demanded that she get some damn rest, Bryce and Mia backed me up immediately. Michonne assured her that it was okay for her to sit this one out and that there would always be more shifts when she'd had a chance to get some shut-eye.

I could tell Naomi was worried about it all. About what might happen to Alexandria if she let herself take a break for one night. So, I took the shift she'd volunteered for instead, and she finally agreed to go get some damn rest.

I stood at the lookout post by the gate and watched the sunset. As the light faded, the events of the day really had a chance to dawn on me. I'd started out in that truck, not sure what I'd find when I burst into Sanctuary but fully expecting the worst. That she was not only alive but that she was home made the whole thing feel like a dream. I almost wanted to go and check on her. Check she was still really there. Still breathing.

Still in love with me.

She loves me.

It was the least believable part of the whole thing but thinking about it made me smile like an idiot in the dark. I was so damn distracted that I didn't notice the figure walking toward the gates, not at first. When I did, I passed it off as a Walker until I saw that it was walking at a decent enough speed. Wasn't stumbling around either. I immediately scanned the dark road behind them for any sign that whoever it was wasn't alone. Nobody had radioed to say that the Saviors had got out. But maybe that was because there was nobody left in the buildings around Sanctuary to tell us.

Whoever it was walked alone. I raised my rifle and peered through the scope. They were too far away to catch any detail on their face, but I recognized him from the way he walked.

Rick.

He was alive after all. Despite everything we'd said to each other, I felt the relief deep down in my chest. I radioed over to Michonne. Watched from the lookout as she and Carl ran out of their house and straight to the gates. I wanted to join them, but the bitterness of how we'd left things kept my feet glued where I was standing. If Rick came looking for any kind of apology, he wouldn't find one from me.

I turned my attention back to the road. Empty, save for a few aimless Walkers. I'd take them out if they became a problem. Metal rattled behind me as someone climbed the ladder. Knew it would be Rick without turning around, so I didn't. I wasn't sure if he'd come to punch me or hug me. I wasn't sure which I'd do to him, either.

After a long silence, he came to stand beside me and said, "Heard you got Naomi back."

"Yup."

No thanks to you.

Was this his segway into telling me off for what I'd done. For daring to disobey Rick Grimes?

"Heard she might have killed Negan, too," he said.

"Yup," I said. Felt the air around me prickle. I was on high-alert for any suggestion that he was thinking about using Naomi as any kind of bargaining chip when we went to carry out the next part of the plan. Did he know something I didn't? Had anyone else managed to take the same route out of Sanctuary as Naomi? I glanced at him. "You heard anything from the Sanctuary?"

"Nope," he said. "They're all still where they're supposed to be."

Good.

"And the Scavengers?"

"They're back on side," he said. Didn't say how he'd managed it, but he looked like shit, so I couldn't imagine it had been easy. Couldn't imagine it was worth it, either. They'd betrayed us before.

"You believe 'em?"

"For now," he shrugged. He seemed quietly confident about it, but I wasn't sure how he could be.

"Hey, I guess as long as we're winning, they're-"

"Daryl, what are you doing up here?" Ric asked, cutting across me. I looked at him, not understanding the point of his question. He had a weird little grin on his face. "Go be with your girl."

Even the suggestion of it made my heart beat faster.

"I'm on lookout," I said like it wasn't damn obvious what I was doing up on this lookout post. "Michonne not tell you? We've upped the-"

"Yeah, she told me," Rick said with a soft laugh. "But you don't need to be up here. Plenty of other people who can take over."

"You should rest, man," I said, realizing what he was offering. "You just got back too."

"Not me," he said and nodded behind him. "Carl can take over here. We'll get you both up if anything happens."

I hesitated. I didn't know if this was Rick's way of testing me or apologizing.

"You just got her, man," Rick said when I didn't move or say anything. "You should be with her. We can handle things without you for one night."

I couldn't think of a single reason not to go and be with her. Or, maybe I could if I thought hard enough, but I didn't want to.

"Alright," I said eventually. I leaned the gun I was holding against the wall, ready for Carl when he got up here and turned around to climb back down the ladder. At the top of it, I hesitated, "Glad you're back, man."

"Yeah," Rick said. "Me too."

I climbed down the ladder and found Carl waiting at the bottom of it. He tipped his hat to me.

"Night, Daryl," he said.

"Night, Carl," I said on my way past.

Alexandria was quiet. I didn't meet anyone else on my way to Naomi's place. When I got there, I stood outside. The lights were all off, the curtains drawn across the windows.

Maybe this is a bad idea.

After kicking up such a fuss, I didn't want to be the one to disturb her rest. Didn't want to wake her. I thought about heading to the houses Deanna had given our group when we'd arrived and seeing if there was a bed there for me. I could always see her in the morning. But that thought made me uneasy. At least when I'd been at the lookout post, we'd been apart, but I was doing something that could protect her. If shit kicked off tonight and I was in a whole other house, who knew what could go wrong?

I opened the door as quietly as I could. The house was as dark inside as it had looked from the outside. Deathly quiet. I slipped my shoes off so they wouldn't make a sound on the wooden floors and glanced into the living room. I thought maybe I'd be able to sleep on one of the sofas, so I'd be near enough to Naomi to protect her if something went down without disturbing her now. When I peeked around the door, I saw that both sofas were occupied. Bryce and Mia were fast asleep opposite one another. So, I headed for the stairs.

I moved up them as quietly as I could. At the top of the landing, Naomi's door stood ajar. That didn't feel right to me, but I tried not to freak out. I pushed on it. A small squeak as it swung forward and revealed piles of books and an empty bed.

No Naomi.

Fear seized my heart for a second. Images of her climbing the walls to search for Rick, going behind my back to get a job from Michonne, or heading back to Sanctuary to try and end this thing on her own flooded my head. And then my eyes adjusted to the low light, and I saw that the bed wasn't just empty of her. There was no mattress there either. Negan had taken it, but he'd left Aaron's, so maybe she'd be in there.

I turned around and tiptoed to the other bedroom. The door was shut. I turned the handle real slow so that it wouldn't make a sound. I could slip in and sleep on the floor. Be close to her without waking her. I pushed the door slowly open.

Another empty bed. The covers were thrown back like someone had left it in a hurry.

No.

Before I could move or say or do anything, someone leaped out of the shadows behind the door I'd just opened and grabbed me. A knife pressed against my throat.

"Woah!" I yelled.

"Daryl!?" Naomi gasped like I was the last person she expected to see.

Crap. This was a mistake.

"Yeah, it's me," I said. I heard her breathing hard and heavy behind me. She let go of me and stood in front of me, her wide eyes scanning me like she couldn't be sure it was really me. She was holding a kitchen knife, and her hand was shaking a little. I looked pointedly at it, "Can you put the knife down now, please?"

"Shit!" She looked at the knife in her hand like she'd only just realized she was holding it. She threw it to the floor. "Sorry."

"The hell are you doing?" I asked. It wasn't really what I meant to ask. Or what I should've asked. I should've asked if she was okay, but there was still so much adrenaline flowing through me from having a damn knife at my throat that it came out way sharper than I meant it to.

"What the hell are you doing?" she countered. "Why didn't you… I dunno, knock? Or… at least holler when you came in, so I knew it was you and not-"

She stopped. Didn't finish who she thought might be creeping up on her in the dark. Who she'd taken that knife to bed to protect herself against.

"Didn't want to wake you," I said. "You're supposed to be asleep."

"Can't sleep," she closed her eyes and shook her head. A pang of worry deep in my chest made me glad I'd come here, although I had no idea how to help. She looked at me again. Looked lost, like she might just float away. "Every time I close my eyes, I… think I'll be back there when I open them again. That this will all be gone."

I took hold of her shoulders. "Hey, no. This is real. You're home. You ain't going anywhere."

She nodded, but I got why it would be so hard for her to believe. I could hardly believe it myself. When I squeezed her shoulders, I wasn't sure if it was to reassure her or me. Naomi glanced around the room. "I know, it's just… doesn't help sleeping in a strange room. Makes it feel less… I dunno."

I got it. Sleeping in this room, surrounded by Eric and Aaron's things, would be a constant reminder of Eric's death. A room she was semi-familiar with but wasn't her space. She might feel safer, surrounded by her own things—less like she needed a damn knife under her pillow. I let go of her and walked to the edge of the bed.

"C'mon," I said, tugging on one end of the mattress.

"What are you doing?"

"We're moving it to your room," I said.

"But Aaron-"

"Can get it back when he comes home," I said. "We'll probably have yours back by then."

"You think?" she asked, but she'd already moved to take the other end, and together we hauled it off the bed frame.

"Yeah. I'll make sure it's the first thing we ask the Saviors to surrender."

She smiled at me. It was tired, but a smile's a smile. We heaved the mattress out of the door and pushed it across the hall floor. From the bottom of the stairs, there was a small cough. Mia looked up at both of us.

"Do I want to know?" she asked, arms folded across her chest.

"Just borrowing this," Naomi indicated to the mattress. "Get some sleep, please."

"You first," Mia said, then she looked at me. "If you can stop her from pacing around and muttering to herself like she's been doing all night, that would be great."

"I'll do my best," I said while Naomi pulled a face at her.

"Go to bed, Mia," she said. "Love you."

"Love you too," Mia turned away again. "Night, Daryl."

"Night."

We pushed the mattress across the hallway floor and into her room. After we'd maneuvered it over all the damn piles of books in there, she scampered back across the hall to pick up the comforter and pillows we'd dropped while I straightened out the mattress on her bed frame.

"Thank you," she said when she came back in, pillows and comforter all bundled up in her arms. She looked more relaxed already, but that might have been the lack of a weapon in her hand. Naomi shook out the comforter, so it settled on the bed and then threw the pillows down at the head of it.

"It's okay," I said. "You good now?"

"Yeah," she said, sitting down on the newly-made bed. "Are you… staying? Shouldn't you be by the gates?"

"Carl took over my spot, so I got the night off," I said. "Wanted to make sure you were at least trying to sleep."

"I was," she said. "I swear."

"I can go if you like," I said. Didn't want to make her uncomfortable or feel any less safe than I already had. I felt dumb for coming here, for not leaving her to it. "I didn't mean to freak you out."

"No, it's fine. I'm glad you came," she said and looked like she meant it. "It's just… back in the jail cell… things got… well, they got…"

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. Was glad it was so dark because it meant there was a chance she couldn't see how red my ears were getting. I wondered how obvious it had been to her that I'd had to severely restrain myself from tearing at her clothes. If she'd be able to feel the intensity of my desire for her in my kiss. "They did."

"Thing is," she said. Still so tense and nervous. "I'm not sure I'm in the mood to-"

"That ain't why I came," I said, quickly. "I wasn't… expecting anything. Well, I was expecting you to be asleep, but I mean, I wasn't expecting… y'know… that. I can just go, I don't want to-"

"No, you don't have to go," she said hurriedly. Felt my heart leap in my chest. "I just didn't want to mislead you about what might happen if you stay. But… I want you to stay."

I nodded. I knew what Naomi was saying. Or at least what she was trying to say. I hadn't expected to have this conversation so soon; thought I might have to build up to it more. Let her open up to me. But she was sort of doing that now, in her own way.

"Negan," I said and watched her tense at the sound of his name. "His guys. Did they… did they put their hands on you?"

I didn't need to be told they'd beaten her; the evidence was written in black and blue across her skin. That wasn't what I'd meant, and we both knew it.

"No," she said. "They didn't, not like that. Not once."

A deep-seated fear I'd been holding onto for a while relaxed in my chest.

"But, them guys at Terminus," I said. Even the word made her flinch again. "They did?"

"Yeah," she said. "They did."

"I don't wanna do anything you ain't ready for," I said. "I don't wanna rush things or make you feel under any kinda pressure. I want… this. I want you. But if you ain't ever ready, that's okay with me. I'll still wanna be with you, in whatever way I can. I need you to know that."

"Thanks, Daryl," she said. Her eyes glistened in the dark like she might cry. "For the record, I want this. I want you, too. I just need a little time."

"Take all the time you need," I said, just glad that she was finally acknowledging she needed time to heal. In more ways than one. And I'd be there for her, every step of the way. I didn't need anything from her but for her to be okay. Anything else was just gravy.

"Will you still stay?" she asked. "I mean, only if you want to. Think it might help me sleep, if you're… you don't have to, though. I'll be-"

"I'll stay," I said before she could tell me she'd be fine when it was obvious she wouldn't be. "As long as you keep that knife away from me."

"Deal," she said with a grin and settled down under the covers. I climbed in, and we lay side by side in the dark like we'd done so many times. Our hands automatically reached for one another, and I heard her exhale beside me.

I knew she was still struggling to sleep. After a while, she shifted onto her side and let go of her hand. I rolled onto my side, too, facing her back. I reached out to put an arm around her. She jumped as I laid a hand on her hip. She hadn't been expecting it; I should've thought about it. I stopped immediately.

"Sorry," I whispered, ready to withdraw my hand if she wasn't comfortable with this. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah," she said, reaching over to take my hand again and pull my arm tighter around her. "It's nice."

"Yeah. It is," I said. Her back was against my chest, my body curled around hers. She fit perfectly against me—the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair. I shut my eyes, let it all sink in, and listened to the sound of her breathing. This was the only way I wanted to fall asleep from now on.

I thought, for a moment, she'd actually fallen asleep, but then she said, "So… this date we're going on…"

"Don't start," I said, feeling a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of my mouth while nerves fluttered in my stomach. Thought she might have forgotten about all that. "I ain't telling you anything."

"Not even a hint?"

"Nope. You're way too smart for hints."

I opened my eyes again and saw her half-smile in the half-light. Her eyes were shut, but she looked happy.

"How did you have time to think of anything like that?" she asked. "You forget we're at war?"

"Oh. It was before all this," I said. I'd been incredibly thankful that her eyes were shut, but now they snapped open, and her head turned to look back at me in disbelief. "Before Negan, before the Wolves, before all of it... Before you even kissed me."

"You've known for that long?"

"Yeah. Think I've always known," I said with a shrug. It was a huge thing to admit. I couldn't tell right away if this would freak her out, but there didn't seem much point in lying about it. "Never thought I'd have a snowball's chance in hell, though."

"Daryl…" she said like I'd said something dumb instead of something true. She turned in my arms so that we were face to face. Chest to chest. "I love you."

I kissed her again. I had to.

"I love you too," I said. "Now, go to sleep, dumbass."

She smiled and closed her eyes again. I felt her relax in my arms, finally able to let her guard down enough to get some rest.

A/N: So, this was a pretty slow and uneventful chapter- sorry if that's not your thing, I just feel like they needed a little break after everything that's happened! Thanks to everyone who's read, faved, followed, and reviewed :)