Chapter Text
"We should risk the train and the walkers," Rick decided.
"Nah. I can see Moonshine. I'll go first," Negan argued. "She'll have rope and I can throw it across so if you fall again—"
"Or we can do the train bridge. We can fight a few walkers."
"With six bullets and a… tree branch? That's a death sentence."
"So is this."
"This is just a bit of balance." The wind ripped through them like an omen in a bad movie. Rick lifted his eyebrows at Negan, but he wasn't wrong. He had seen at least twenty walkers on the bridge and there could have been more further down in the other cars, too many for them to handle.
"Your left leg is still fucked up from the sinkhole."
"I can walk on it just fine. Swam with it to save your ass. Besides, you can't grip the beam as well with one hand."
Rick glared at him but Negan didn't back down. "Fine. Flip a coin?"
"When was the last time you carried coins?" Negan scoffed.
"There's cars everywhere. People used to keep spare change in them."
"And waste time looking? How about enie meenie miney mo?"
The memory slammed into him like a baseball bat to the head. He had to take a deep breath and push it away. When he could focus on the here and now again, he could see the understanding and guilt flash across Negan's face.
"Sorry. I didn't think."
Rick smiled thinly, taking another moment before he could look him in the eyes again. "It's fine. Sure. That works."
"Would you feel more comfortable if you did it?"
"Sure." Rick ran through it pointing between them. “You are it… damn.” Rick glared at Negan’s knowing smirk. Understanding dawned on Rick. “ You knew .” Negan had suggested it to throw Rick off while knowing if Rick started on Negan, Negan would win. If Rick started on himself, Negan probably would have changed his mind and found a fucking coin or something.
Manipulative bastard.
"I don't know what you mean." Negan picked something up and flicked it at Rick. He caught the coin just as Negan turned to the I-beam. "Wait here, Prick. If I go down, don't come in after me. Otherwise, we'll just end up in a loop."
Rick watched, holding his breath, as Negan slid slowly onto his hands and knees, gripping the beam tightly, testing the weight. Then he started moving.
Rick shook his head to himself, this was stupid. They should wait the night or try to move the walkers instead. A small voice wondered if Negan was actually on a suicide mission.
Negan was slow, he didn't push it anymore than necessary, but he wobbled once and Rick tensed, arms jerking out as though he could catch him.
Until, finally, Negan reached the other side. He stood and turned, waving at Rick. "Told ya!" he shouted. Rick rolled his eyes.
Negan jogged to the waiting Moonshine at the other end. A minute later he came back with a rope and the nervous horse. Negan started swinging the rope above his head like a lasso and then threw some of it at Rick who pocketed the coin and caught the rope in both arms. "Tie it around your chest, under your shoulders. If you fall, I've got you." He tied the other end to Moonshine and gripped a section of it himself.
Rick sighed and did as ordered.
This was so stupid. Maybe he should go home. Judith still needed him, she couldn't walk yet. He should be there for that.
Would she ever forgive him if he gave up? Would she forgive him if he never gave up?
He would have to eventually. Daryl wouldn't want him looking out here forever and never see his family again. But Daryl searched for him for over five years.
Rick cursed under his breath and stepped onto the I-beam. It felt like it wobbled under his weight. He slowly crouched getting to his hand and knees, gripping it with his hand and leaning with his left arm. The river crashed below him and the wind felt stronger than ever.
He scooted forward, grateful for the rope around his chest, but he still went slowly knowing he shouldn't look down. Despite that, he found himself staring at an oil tanker he had walked by just a few hours ago, still slowly sinking. Likely empty of oil, still filling with water.
Then a hand was in front of his face. He looked up at Negan, standing and reaching out for him.
Rick grasped it and Negan pulled him up to his feet on solid ground.
They quickly backed up from the gap in the bridge and then laughter bubbled up from Rick's throat. Negan frowned at him, Rick tried to breathe and calm down but he looked at Negan again and started laughing.
Negan chuckled and patted his shoulder. "You good, man?"
"I'm fine," he said through bursts of giggles. "I became a cop because Shane did. He was the adrenaline junkie. Jesus fucking Christ." He stood straight taking a deep breath. "I'm good."
Negan studied him. "There's still time to go back." Rick glared at him, sobering quickly. Negan lifted his hands in surrender. "Okay, last time. I promise."
"Good. Let's find Chief."
Daryl screamed as the belt buckle sliced into his skin, cutting new scars amongst his old ones.
Warm blood trickled down his back. The stench of iron thick in his nose and on his tongue.
He opened his eyes and stared at a man he didn't recognize with a scar on his cheek. He stood in the middle of the clearing, whistling that horrific two-beat whistle that haunted him.
“Tell me,” he ordered.
Daryl lifted his knife and sliced through his tongue rather than talk. He screamed through the pain but then dropped the slimy tongue on the ground and grinned through a mouthful of blood.
Triumph cut through his pain. Ha! Can’t talk now, even if he was tempted he couldn’t betray his family.
The man laughed the low deep chuckle Daryl knew from Negan but it didn’t match his younger face. He darted forwards and grabbed Daryl by the hair, lifting and dragging him. Daryl was too exhausted to fight back and just scrambled to follow where he was being dragged until he was thrown on a bed and stripped.
Negan stood above him, thick cock in his face. “Who are you?”
Daryl opened his mouth to answer but he couldn't speak without a tongue.
Pain exploded through his back again but Negan didn’t move.
“Who are you?” Negan shouted. He couldn't answer, another excruciating whip.
“Who are you?” Each word punctuated but another whip. Daryl gritted his teeth, he wouldn't cry. He would scream, but he wouldn't cry.
“Who. Are. You.”
Daryl!
Daryl woke with a gasp, shooting up in bed and couldn’t pull in a full breath, his heart beating so fast it clogged his throat. Thunder cracked through the room, and lightning lit it up briefly. His dream faded quickly. He tried to hold onto the scarred face, it felt important for some reason, but it was gone before he could.
When he finally managed to pull in a gasping breath, Daryl looked down at the still sleeping Negan, surprised he hadn’t woken. He was usually a fairly light sleeper, maybe this exhaustion was another benefit to letting Negan fuck him. Daryl slid from the bed as quietly as he could and grabbed some clothes on his way out of the room, hesitating before leaving the bandana. No one else would see his neck and he knew Negan liked to see it, if he woke it might make him less pissed if he saw his mark on Daryl.
He let himself outside, letting the rain soak his clothes and the wind cool his too hot skin. The urge to run was almost overpowering, but he didn’t go far. He sat on the stairs breathing slowly. He could feel every sharp whip in the dream. Pain he would never forget. Yet, it felt different from the dream or memory or whatever the fuck it was.
He heard the door click open and immediately wanted to defend himself. I ain't fuckin' running, was on his tongue before he saw the glass of water Negan held.
Familiarity washed through him, and he suddenly thought of a blanket on a cold night. “Want me to sit with you or fuck off?”
Daryl chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I can tell you to fuck off?” he asked, scoffing then tensed, waiting for the pain.
“Always, Darlin'.” Negan kissed the top of his head and put Daryl's boots on the floor beside him. “I was going to check in on Judith and Warren soon if you want to go instead. Let me know if you don’t.” The door closed again. He glanced around to find he was alone.
Huh.
Daryl finished the glass of water and put it beside him, watching the heavy rain slowly start to fill it again. When it was full, he put on his boots, and went to the stables. It was the second largest building in Alexandria. Built on the opposite side of town near the main gate. In the far northeast corner, it pressed against the wall.
By the time he was close to it, his breathing came easier and his trembling was more cold related than because of his dream. He opened the side door to the building. A memory hit him, scavenging for wiring so they could install electric lights. He remembered a woman with the scent of the ocean telling them fire and horses did not mix.
The lights were mostly off except for a small section near the middle where he could see Judith and a teenager around her age sat on the floor across from a larger stall. The young man had been in their house a few days ago, but left quickly when he saw Daryl coming down, he must be Warren. They were leaning against the wall with a blanket around them. Judith was asleep with her head on Warren’s shoulder. The boy held a book in one hand with large letters that looked targeted towards young children.
“Hi?” Warren whispered, putting the book down carefully next to him.
“Hey. Jus’ uh, checkin’ on Peach in the storm,” Daryl lied, eyes darting around the dark stalls. Negan brought him here once, but he couldn’t quite remember what stall she was in.
Warren raised an eyebrow. “Negan ‘n’ Rick wanted you to look that we're not having sex or somethin’?”
Daryl shrugged, not about to insult the kid’s intelligence. He had heard some of the younger ones speak and it was obvious they were smart, despite their odd speech patterns. They survived alone outside of communities, talking could get you killed and speech patterns didn't matter when it came to survival. “Yeah.”
Warren smirked. “If we was there - which we not, we’re just… y’know,” he shrugged, “friends? You was there for intense sex education Negan did. I'm scared to hurt her.”
Daryl’s stomach dropped, a feeling of embarrassment echoing through him without the memory to anchor it. He pushed away the thought of what Negan had said, or done, during that class. Deciding if it was a good thing that Warren was too afraid to try anything with Judith, although the idea he was afraid sex would hurt her made him sick and angry.
Daryl studied the boy. There was a sense of wild danger that reminded him a bit of Carl. A quiet stillness that he saw in Enid when they first arrived at Alexandria. The young adapted to this world faster than the adults. Daryl believed his word, trusting that he wouldn’t hurt Judith.
“Good.”
“Don't tell she’s slept. She'll be pissed. ‘Specially if anyone knows.”
Daryl mimed zipping his lips and glanced around the stalls to remember which Peach was in, figuring he'd actually check on her since he was already there. She was his and he wanted to get to know her again.
He approached one, trusting his instincts and glanced inside to find the scarred up mare. She was surprisingly awake and pacing her stall. “Hey girl. What's up, huh?”
“Some are scared,” Warren spoke up, “with the storm. Marjan said that’s normal.”
Daryl hummed and opened her stall, reaching out to her. She moved as though to bite him but stopped inches from his flinching hand. He couldn't lose fingers on his other hand. “Hey, yer safe, girl.”
She ducked her head and stepped a few feet forward so he was next to her side. Daryl ran his fingers through her soft mane. “I hear you brought me back. Hope that was the right decision,” he murmured against her ear. She huffed and shook her head as if to ask, Why do you doubt me ?
It was weird that he also felt betrayed by her, as though she should be in his corner the same way Rick should have been. But they both brought him back to Negan. The mention of it at dinner stirred the feelings back up and he shifted, still aching from Negan fucking him. The combination suddenly made a horrific thought come to him and he rested his head against Peach’s side to breathe through the pain.
He knew Rick would do anything to protect him. He would do the same. Rick was with Negan for two months looking for Daryl.
Two months the community had been without Negan, but they hadn’t revolted. As though they saw Negan as a better option than whatever they could do on their own. As though they needed him.
Two months that Rick was alone with an ever increasingly upset Negan. Had Rick tried to take his place? Had Negan fucked him? Hurt him? Guilt ate at Daryl, Michonne and Negan’s tension suddenly taking on a new light. Did Daryl know that would happen? Was it finally too much that he sacrificed Rick to that fate?
Thunder boomed around them as though punctuating his thoughts. Peach neighed and pulled back, Daryl backed up giving her space. He heard Judith shout and the familiar sound of metal leaving a sheath.
“Just thunder,” Warren crooned.
Daryl glanced out to see Judith look down at her arms, breathing slowly, clenching and uncleanching her left one as the knife slid back into her prosthetic.
“Fuck. I fell asleep,” she muttered through a yawn.
“Didn't see a thing,” Daryl called out from the stall, trying to push his emotions down and act normal. He heard laughter following his shout.
“Daryl?” Judith asked.
“S’me.” He lifted his hand in a wave as he leaned over the stall door to fake a smile at the young girl. She beamed at him.
“Hey, I go back to Kid House. Check on the littles,” Warren said and Daryl turned his attention back on Peach to give them some privacy. “Cora’s with them but…”
“Of course. Go. I'll keep an eye on Violet.”
When he didn't hear movement but instead hushed whispers including the words ‘Negan said’, Daryl glanced out again to Judith glaring at Warren.
“I. Am. Fine. Go, you idiot.”
Warren sighed and nodded, glancing at Daryl almost warily before he left. Once he was gone, Daryl left Peach to sit beside Judith, pulling the blanket over his legs against the small chill. He was still wet from walking in the rain and when Warren left a wind blew in as though cutting through the heat of the stable.
“Barely seen ya, Lil Asskicker,” Daryl said carefully, unsure what ‘Negan said’ that made Warren hesitate to leave them alone.
Judith grinned and leaned against his arm. “I know. Sorry. With school, duties, PT, and Negan saying we need him or Dad with us to see you–”
“What?”
Judith winced, looking up at him through her loose hair. “Probably wasn't supposed to tell you that part.”
“Why'd he say that?” Daryl snapped even as he knew the answer: to keep him from his family.
“Overprotective still. He feels guilty as fuck about this,” she gestured at her prosthetics. “He's terrified he's going to have to do something like this again.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she looked down, hopefully missing his sick expression. “I say like I'm not scared of that too. Not because of you, but… y’know. Accidents. Sorry.” She winced again when she saw his face as he tried to school the pain he was in.
He wondered again what she understood. If Negan had ruled since she was a toddler did she know this wasn't how things should be? That people shouldn’t lose limbs because their leader was pissed off. Especially as a punishment for someone else. But without him would she even be alive? Would she be fed and happy? Were the custom prosthetics an apology to her, as though it made everything better? Or were they something he had earned for her? His own apology. “Y’know, I would take any pain from ya.”
“I know, Big Asskicker. And I know I'm just a kid, but if you wanna talk about wherever you were–”
He was saved by another crash of thunder and then a louder bang. Judith yelped and leaned into him.
“Hey, that was outside, you're okay,” Daryl murmured.
“Sorry. Fuck–”
One of the horses neighed and the rest followed, panicking sounds.
Daryl got to his feet wondering if the storm had brought a herd the horses could sense.
Judith stood beside, looking around curiously. “Can you smell smoke?” She asked softly.
Daryl sniffed and cursed. “C'mon.” He ran to the door, slowing when he realized Judith couldn't run. He kept at her side until they were out the doors.
The night glowed red where the far end of the structure was already up in flames.
“Go! Get help, buckets of water from the water plant near the windmill. Whatever anyone can carry. I got the horses!” Daryl ordered, running back into the stables where the horses’ screams were now deafening, neighing and banging against their stall doors. The building was quickly filling with smoke.
He pulled his shirt over his mouth and ran down the hallway, opening each stall one by one.
The horses ran past him, surprisingly Peach did stop by his side, eyes rolling in fear but standing steady as though trying to get him to jump on. He smacked her rump and ordered her to go, other horses following her as though she was their leader.
He spun around checking they were all free before he ran back outside where chaos reigned. Horses ran everywhere, there was a crowd of people running towards the building. Some were wearing metal backpacks with tubes and a hose in their arms but there was no order. Negan was coming down the road at a limping sprint from their house, his face anxious. Daryl didn’t have long before he was there. Would he send him back to the house? He needed to help, Alexandria used to be his home.
The rain was suppressing it for now but the dry hay inside would catch soon, and most of the buildings were made of wood. Which meant it wouldn't take long for the fire to take over the building and spread to others. Saviors arrived first and Daryl wondered if his status as Negan’s husband would help or hurt him when he ordered them around.
“You,” he shouted at a big guy he vaguely remembered as Jerry, “grab a group, round up the horses, take ‘em somewhere safe. What is that?” he asked someone - Mark - he recognized the scarred man and mentally cursed, he should probably know but it was too late now.
“Uh– fire extinguisher? Filled with water.”
“Great. Everyone with one form a circle. Three of you inside,” he shouted at everyone around him. He saw Michonne and Rick run towards him, each wearing one of the fire extinguishers. Negan was just ahead of them but Daryl was on a roll, he knew what needed to be done and wasn’t about to stop and let Negan take over. He’d force him to change his orders. People are a resource. Maybe he would let him be useful here too.
“Rick and Michonne each lead a group.” He glanced around and saw someone he did know the name of. “Eugene, we need rakes, gotta move as much hay as we can!” The man ran off to get what was needed. “Everyone else yet gotta get buckets filled from the river and help out. Go.”
“Storm’s taken out a fence panel,” Rosita shouted, reaching his side. “By the pond. Walker got in and nearly bit David. He’s fine.”
Fuck. He couldn’t be in two places at once. He caught Negan's eye and the other man knew what he was asking.
“I got it, you keep dealing with this,” Negan offered. Daryl didn't want him near Rosita but there was too much going on, if they didn’t get the fire out soon it could end up much worse. The two ran off to deal with that as the rest continued with the fire.
“Gimmie your knife,” Daryl shouted at Rick as his friend started to pass him. Rick took one from his belt and handed it over without question before running to continue helping. Daryl lined it up on the back of his arm cast and sliced through it as carefully as he could, hissing when he touched his skin and pulled back slightly. He broke the cast open and flexed his hand, wrist, and elbow. It hurt, but it was bearable. The scars on his feet hurt more, all the damn time.
He stuck the knife in his belt, ignoring the thought he wasn’t allowed to have it, in time for Eugene to return with Princess, both holding metal rakes. “C’mon!” He took one, pulled his handkerchief from his back pocket and tied it around his face as he ran back inside the stables relieved when they followed him without argument, both covering their own faces. He wondered at Eugene’s lack of hesitancy for a second, the man was a genius but a coward.
The three of them worked hard on moving the hay, making a line of dirt between the fire and everything else. Rick and Mark were inside with him, using their fire extinguishers to try and put it out. Someone rushed by with a bucket of sand to start smothering parts of it.
But the smoke was too thick, making it hard to breathe so he finally had to step out, relieved when Jackson appeared and took over for him. He watched Eugene swap with someone else. Rick followed him out after a moment.
RJ ran toward them, holding out bottles of water. “Thank you,” Daryl said through a cough.
Negan ran through the town, focused on his goal.
The storm, fire, scared horses, and people were just causing more chaos. He had heard Daryl put Jerry in charge of the animals so Negan just dodged them and kept going, following Rosita to the open section of the wall. The panel was on the ground beside them, broken. It looked as though it was cracked down the middle. It had been one that fell during the sink hole two years ago, it had seemed to be fine so they put it back. The metal must have been damaged during the fall and the ground where they had filled in the shallower part of the sinkhole was loose enough for it to come down.
He could only watch as two horses ran through the gap. Rahman and Frank were working on closing the gap with a roll of chain link. They tried to stop the terrified animals but Frank pulled Rahman out of the way at the last minute when it looked like he was going to be trampled. Forced to let the horses pass into the darkness beyond.
Negan reached them with Rosita, checking they were both uninjured. “The fire is gonna bring walkers!” Negan reminded them, having to shout above the storm that only seemed to be getting worse. “Chain link won’t be enough.”
“Just temporary since it was stored nearby, trying to put off the horses for now,” Frank explained. “We’ve lost five already, including the pregnant one. Jared is getting some wood from the storage for boards!”
Negan cursed. “Anyone gone after the horses?”
“Warren and Blake.”
“We’ll deal with that later, we need to cover the gap,” Rosita said. Negan wanted to argue but they had lived out there for so long, they could handle themselves until the morning. He rushed forward to help pull the chain link across the fencing.
“Negan, Moonshine!” Rahman shouted.
Negan spun around to see his own horse rushing towards them. There were more around the town darting around, the movements of others making the rest panic. He held his arms out wide, trying to turn her. Moonshine darted past him, turning at the last minute away from the wall but with no reins on her Negan couldn't slow her down. She ran past Jared and Aryan carrying long planks of wood.
“It’s all we got,” Jarad said, glancing back at the horse. “Can drill them into the wall. As many as we can. Hold off the walkers.”
“It’ll have to do.” They worked quickly, but the storm was loud and the shouting louder. Negan turned the plank he held and felt it hit something, followed by a loud grunt and shout of pain.
He lifted it upright so he didn’t hit anything else and turned to see Rosita holding a hand over her face. “Shit, sorry.”
Rosita smiled thinly. “I’m fine.” She pulled her hand away and Negan saw blood being washed away by the rain.
“You need an ice pack.”
“We’re not done yet. Just look before you spin please. We all know you have a good swing,” Rosita muttered. “I’m just glad you weren’t aiming.”
Negan arched an eyebrow at her, surprised at the joke, she smirked at him and then winced and touched the cut on her lip.
“Ow. C’mon. I’ll get an ice pack when we’re done, I’ll be fine till then.”
They made quick work securing the wall. Praying it would hold against walkers, Negan ordered Frank on the wall with Jared, each with a rifle. Once they were set watching the horizon he sent Rosita to the infirmary to get checked out. Then Negan ran back to the fire, it seemed mostly under control from the outside. The building around the stables were drenched and the young children seemed to be in charge of watching for sparks.
People were starting to try to organize to find the horses. He didn’t want Daryl outside, he hadn’t even finished healing from the last time, and there was something still wrong with him Negan couldn't figure out. The words brain damage fought to come to the forefront of his mind, and he pushed them back. Regardless of all of that he was the best tracker they had.
He stopped Brent as he was carrying an empty bucket toward the river. “Hey, can you run to my house, upstairs, furthest bedroom, on top of the set of drawers is a crossbow. The arrows are in the cabinet in the living room. Can you bring them?”
“On it!” The nine year old boy handed the bucket to Gracie and took off running in the direction of the houses.
He saw Daryl coming out of the stable, he took his handkerchief off his face, coughing lightly. More people poured out of the stable and RJ started giving them water. Princess joined them just as Daryl downed half the bottle and poured the rest over his face. With his unbandaged left arm.
“Where the fuck is your cast?” Negan snapped once he was close enough.
Daryl turned to him, eyes wide and guilty. “Cut it off. Needed my arm free to help.”
Rick and Eugene both looked at his arm as though they hadn’t noticed.
“You’ve got no goddamn respect for your own fucking health,” Negan hissed. He turned and glared at Rick, he should have at least paid enough attention to notice. He resolutely ignored the fact he would have done the same thing. “Doesn’t matter right now. Some horses got out. Violet . She’s vulnerable and walkers are going to be drawn by the fire.”
Daryl narrowed his eyes. “Need me to go track her?”
“Yeah. Warren and Blake are already out there, but I’m gonna send a few people out,” he glanced at Rick, technically he didn't have authority yet. They agreed to wait until Carol was back before he officially joined the council, but he had a plan and Rick nodded his agreement. “But you’re the best we got for Violet.”
“Alone?” Daryl asked, seeming shocked by that idea.
“I’ll just slow you down.”
“I’ll go out as well, but we should split up,” Rick offered. Princess nodded her agreement, only Eugene hesitated. Negan knew how he avoided the horses and mentally reassigned him to another duty, but he needed to finish this one. Eugene could contact Hilltop, they could use some Whisperers to control the herds that would be heading in this direction, drawn by the smoke and fire.
“Great. Brent is bringing your crossbow but your arm–”
“I can still load it, ‘n fire it,” Daryl admitted. Negan sighed, knowing Daryl would have strained and injured his arm practicing.
“Good,” he grumbled. Brent arrived at their side and held up the crossbow in one hand, the arrows in the other. Daryl took them, muttering a thanks. Negan pulled Daryl in for a swift kiss and placed a knife from his own belt in his palm. “Go, Darlin’. Make sure to come back this time. We’ll talk about you taking better care of yourself when you come home.”
Once Daryl was on his way to the gates, Negan found more volunteers to search for the other horses.
Daryl fired an arrow, hitting the walker through the eye, and swung the back of his crossbow into another. He was exhausted and aching. His still broken arm hurt like hell. The wound in his abdomen felt like it had come open, despite the lack of blood, just as the scars on his feet had to be ripping apart. But despite all the pain, he felt better than he had since before they met Negan, since he and Rick were chasing after Jesus and the supply van he stole.
He was outside, he was free. He was fighting, adrenaline up, doing what he knew best.
The amount of walkers drawn by the fire was making it nearly impossible to follow the horse tracks but even with the rain he found a trail of blood. He was both hoping and dreading it being Violet going into labor.
Even if it wasn’t her, it was an injured horse he needed to find and get back safe behind walls.
He glanced back towards Alexandria, glad to see the cloud of smoke starting to get lighter and kept moving, following the blood trail. Finally he heard it, loud neighing. Pained.
He ran towards the sound, finding Violet on the ground, huffing, and a walker approaching her. He lifted his crossbow, killed it, and rushed around Violet to get his arrow back. He only had a few left and figured he would be stuck until the foal was born and could move.
He could only pray Negan would understand and wouldn’t think he was running.