"Get your fucking hands off her, now." Daryl stands in the open doorway, his crossbow pointing at Dante's head. Rosita and Gabriel are behind him, wielding their weapons. I feel Dante tense, knowing he's outnumbered.

"Come on now, Daryl. I see how you look at her, you wouldn't want her hurt, would you?"

"No. And you're not going to. Release her, now, I can shoot this a lot quicker when you can do anything." Daryl takes a step towards us. "Let Rose go, I won't ask again.."

In a sudden motion, Dante shoves me to the floor and makes to run. At that moment, Siddiq's corpse grabs his arm, and I hear Rosita scream. Dante manages to punch the walker off just as Gabriel tackles him to the floor, Daryl's bolt flies a second after, silencing Siddiq once and for all. As Gabriel ties Dante's arm behind his back, Rosita rushes and slides to the floor beside Siddiq's limp body.

"No," She sobs. "No, no, no," She cradles his head. Gabriel lands punch after punch on Dante's face, arms, and chest. He coughs and sputters, then laughs. With one last punch, Gabriel knocks him out.

"Put him in the cell. I'm so sorry, Rosita. We'll find out what happens here, and he'll get what he deserves. I promise. In the meantime, Siddiq will have a proper burial."

Daryl helps me to my feet while Gabriel holds Rosita. He motions me out, knowing we should them to grieve.

We walk in silence as we lock up Dante, and return to Daryl's place. Dog greets us happily, his tag wagging as he jumps up for petting. Daryl storms ahead of me, pacing back and forth across the floor. I watch him cautiously, petting Dog's head.

"What the hell happened?" He growls. "What was he doing to you?" I explain my evening. Going to Siddiq's, seeing Rosita and warning her, Dante over Siddiq's body, and his mention of using me and giving me to Alpha.

"Did he hurt you?" He stops and stares at me, studying my entire body.

"No, you got there before he could do anything. The worst he may have done is bruise my wrist." He crosses the room to me in the blink of an eye, taking my hands in his and looking them over. I laugh and let him. "I'm fine, truly." He stares into my eyes for a moment and my heart flutters, then he scoops me into a hard hug. The feeling overwhelms me. Sure, he's carried me when I was hurt and held me through a panic attack, but this feels different. Before, there was a reason to do what he did. Many would react similarly, especially those with experience with panic attacks. Now, he's hugging me because he was worried because he cares. I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

"Good. The way he was.. touching you, I coulda killed him. Shoulda. If we hadn't gotten there in time..."

"I don't want to think about that," I cut him off, shuddering. "He's locked up and can't hurt anyone now. That's all that matters." He nods and releases me from his hold.

"I've never saved someone this much in so few days," He laughs, "We're gonna have to train you better."

"Just wait and see, it'll be me saving you next time. " I playfully smack his shoulder, my hand lingering on him a beat longer than I should. Then there's a sharp knock on the door.Gabriel waits on the other side. His expression hard and dark. "Come on," He says shortly. "We need to get answers out of him. Now." He leads us through town, down some stairs and into the room that houses their single jail cell. Carol is waiting outside the cell, Dante tied up inside, smirking at us.

"Come to visit me, did you?" He looks right at me, and winks. Daryl tenses beside me.

"Don't talk to 'er." He growls, placing himself in front of me.

"Don't be jealous. You're free to join in, she can handle it," He laughs hardl, spitting blood from his mouth onto the floor. "It doesn't matter. none of it matters. The more people you watch die the more you know how ridiculous it is to get attached to one another. Knowing that is what sets you free."

"Is that what you think you're doing? Setting us free?" Carol scoffs, "Is that what you did to Siddiq?"

"I liked Siddiq. He was never supposed to find out."

"Liked him? You killed him!" I push from behind Daryl, staring at Dante in horror.

"He wasn't part of the plan," Dante says, standing and walking to the edge of his cage. "You weren't either, sticking your nose where it doesn't belong." Daryl lights a smoke, breathing it in deeply and exhaling.

"So what was the plan?" Daryl asks.

"Encourage your fear of us. Sow doubt and turn you against one another. Hell, I can't wait to see you tear each other apart deciding what to do with me." Dante proudly explains how easily he got in, gained trust and caused mayhem in the community. The illness, the previous whisperer captives death.

"You piece of shit," Gabriel grabs his shirt through the bars and slams him against them. "I need no help knowing that to do with you," Daryl grabs his shoulder, pulling Gabriel back.

"We need to find Aaron, he needs to know, deserves a vote in this," Carol says.

"Where's your faith in humanity now, Gabe? Gonna murder me in cold blood." Dante chuckles darkly. "What would your precious God think?"

"Were God still around, he'd know exactly what I need to do. My God is a vengeful God, and so too will I be." He turns sharply and storms out.

{--------------------------------------------------------}

At Aaron's house, he doesn't take the news well. After all, he entrusted his people, his child, to that man.

"You can't do that to yourself," Carol says, placing and comforting hand on his shoulder.

He tells us what he's learned from someone he calls Mary, a whisperer he's been corresponding with. A possible lead on the location of a massive horde that Alpha has been gathering. Carol jumps at the news.

"We have to destroy it. It's the only way we have any shot at ending this thing." She says, already beginning to stand.

"We can go at first light." Aaron says, "It's been a long day, and we'll need to gather a group."

"No. We go now." Carol says, "We need to."

"We go tomorrow," Daryl says firmly. "Ask Jerry if he'll come join. Aaron, you in?" Aaron nods. Carol begrudgingly gives in, leaving to gather a team. Aaron sighs.

While Aaron, Rosita, and Gabriel review the footage of Dante's entrance interview, Daryl and I head to Alexandria's graveyard. He assists in digging the grave, while I help Alden and Earl, the two blacksmiths, with the preparation of a cross. I carefully carve his name into the wooden cross they've made. My eyes threatened to spill tears. I've learned that Rosita's baby was Siddiq's and that she was now without her dad. Memories of my own father flood me. His gentle nature and sharp wit. Weakness and stupidity, you mean. My mother's voice scoffs. I breathe deeply, tuning her out.

"Thank you," Alden says, taking the cross from my hands. More and more people gather around the quaint grave. Daryl stands a few feet away from the edge, puffing on a cigarette. I stand beside him, listening in as Gabriel begins the funeral proceedings. Silent tears fall down my face, he was a good person, a truly good one. Too many people like that end up like this. Daryl's arm wraps around my shoulder, pulling me to his side. We stay like that until it's over, and everyone starts to leave.

{--------------------------------------------------------}

"You take the bed again tonight," Daryl says. We've been sitting on the couch silently for nearly two hours. Me reading a book I got from one of the storerooms, him sharpening his daggers. We've been passing a bottle of whisky back and forth, and my head is buzzing.

"No, it's your bed. I'll take the couch,"

"Nah," He says. "I slept in the woods for 6 years, couch is nothin'" He runs a cloth along one of the blades, polishing its edge.

"Nope. You're taking it tonight,"

"Stop bein' so damn stubborn, you need your sleep."

"And you don't?"

"I'll sleep fine out here! Quit fightin' me,"

"Look, I'm either sleeping out here, or you're sleeping in there with me." I blurt the idea without thinking, determined to win this one.

"You really that damn stubborn?" He rolls his eyes.

"You know it. Your choice, Dixon." He chuckles, throwing an arm in the air.

"Fine. I'm gonna go crawl in, I expect you to do the same," He stalks off to the bedroom and my face flushes. Did not expect him to just go with it... "Ya comin'?" He calls after me. Standing slowly, I follow after him. He's changed into a tight grey tank top and blue plaid pyjama bottoms. I grab my comfy shorts and old tee and quickly step into the bathroom.

I change slowly, feeling nervous like a young girl getting ready for her first date. Looking in the stained mirror, I run my fingers through my brown hair, detangling it. I wash my face clean, dry it and take a deep breath.

Back in the room, Daryl's lounging on the bed, one hand behind his head. My heart is beating so loud I'm worried he'll hear it. I walk to the other side, and gingerly lay down, as close to the edge of the bed as I can manage. We pull the blankets over us, and Daryl flicks the lamp off.

"G'night, Rosemary," His voice is low and rough.

"Goodnight." I breathe, rolling to my side with my back to him and curling my knees to my chest. I lay there silently, listening as his breathing evened out. I can feel the warmth of his body behind me. Dog jumps up, curling up at our feet. The sounds of his soft snoring soothe my rushing brain and slow my speeding heart until I'm unable to keep my eyes open.

{--------------------------------------------------------}

I wake the next morning just as the sun starts to rise, an orange-red glow slivering into the room. I feel a pressure holding me down, and warmth pressed against my back. It takes me a brief moment to realize what's happening. In the night, Daryl rolled over and wrapped me in his arms.

His body is flush against mine. He's still snoring faintly, each exhale tickling my ear. My body reacts, heat spreading all over. Sleep fogging my brain, my hips move instinctually, pressing back against him. I can feel him under me, pressed hard against my tailbone. I feel him grind against me, a low groan caressing my ear. I gasp, pressing my thighs together. His hand moves slowly across my hip and around my stomach, slipping upwards towards my chest. His grip tightens, squeezing me to him., bugle grinding across me again. His noises stop suddenly and I feel him tense nervously.

"Shit..." He whispers, morning voice as gruff and sensual as I remember. More. I shut my eyes, and focus on breathing evenly. To my surprise, he buries his face in my hair for a moment, holding on to me. He relaxes, inhaling deeply against my neck. My body shudders and I gasp. His body goes rigid once more, his hips pushing forward again and I hear him bite back another groan.

"Um... good morning," I manage.

"Mornin'" He whispers back, he starts to move back, entangling his limbs from mine. I flinch as the sudden cold air rushes over my body, and involuntarily grip his arms, pulling him back to me.

"Coooold," I whine sleepily. He chuckles and reaches one hand down to pull the blanket up, he tucks it around my shoulders and rubs my arms gently. I hum happily, snuggling in. I hear him sigh deeply, his morning wood pushing on me again. Smirking to myself, I shut my eyes and wiggled my hips back, hearing his breath hitch. His hand grips my hip, holding them still.

"Don't start something you can't finish, sleepyhead." He groans out, "Go back to sleep."

"Is that an order?" I tease lazily.

"Yeah, and you better listen." He growls and my enter body flames with lust, underlined with fear. I bite my lip. "It's not time to go yet, get some more rest." He cradles my head, stroking my hair. Frustrated, but tired enough to ignore it, I let myself slip away again.

{--------------------------------------------------------}

When I wake again, the bed is empty and the air is filled with a sweet, warm scent. I throw the blanket back, put on a hoodie and make my way to the kitchen. Daryl stands by the stove, a towel slung over his shoulder.

"Whatcha cookin'?" I ask, taking a seat at the small table.

"Pancakes," He flips one onto a plate and hands it to me.

"You made pancakes?" I laugh, staring at the fluffy round pancake.

"Well, Carol made the batter for me, but I'm cookin' 'em."

"Well, thank you." I chuckled at him and took a bite of the pancake. "They're very good, perfectly cooked," I winked.

"Thanks. Figured we could use something nice before I go,"

"Before you go? Daryl, I'm coming with you."

"Nah, yer not."

"I am!" He sighs at me, rolling his eyes.

"No." He says firmly, "I need you to stay here. Yer still healing, and I need to focus out there. Havin' you there... I'd be too distracted trying to protect you, to make sure you were okay. Besides, someone needs to watch Dog."

I sigh and look at the German Shepherd. He tilts his head and whines, licking my hand. Daryl's eyes are sharp and serious, his arms tense, veins bulging in a way that affects me more than I care to analyze. Nodding, I give in and help him prepare his bag for the trip. I follow to the meeting spot, anxiety growing with each step.

He's going to die. My mother's voice chides. You'll be all alone again. I close my eyes and feel Daryl's hand brush mine. At once, the voice disappears and my heart calms. We meet with Carol, Aaron, Jerry, Magna, Connie, and Kelly near the gate. Even with Daryl's calming presence, I can't hide the worry, and surprise runs through me when Connie motions me over to her, just out of earshot of the others. She pulls out her small notebook and writes a note.

"Don't worry about him, he can handle anything," The note reads, I turn to look at her.

"I know," I sign thank you, one of the only words I'd picked up before the fall. She writes once more, then places a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"You care for him." It reads. I look at her shocked.

"No, I, well. I just met him like a week or two ago," I sigh, my hands fidgeting with the edge of my shirt. She gives me a face, then writes out two pages.

The first reads: "I see the way you look at each other," and the second; "A week can feel like a year now."

"Ha, that's true," It did feel like it had been much longer since I came to Alexandria. Since I'd met him. Her smile looks almost sad for a second.

"I care about him too," She writes, giving me a knowing look, "He's good. Take care of him?" I can't say I'm too surprised. He's incredibly sweet with her and her sister, and I too see the way she looks at him.

"I'm sorry," I say, but she smiles at me and shakes her head rapidly. She reaches over and pulls me into a tight hug. After embracing me for a minute she leans back and picks up her pad again.

"I have Kelly. Carol has been distant from him, you both need someone." Connie flips the page. "I want to see you happy," she underlines to the last line, "together," She points at herself then to me, then hooks her index fingers together one on top of the other, then swaps their position.

"Friends?" I ask, guessing the meaning. She nods, smile growing. "Watch his back out there?" I ask sheepishly, and she holds her pinky out to me. I lock it with mine, then stand back as the group heads out for their journey, sharing a long look with Daryl before he leaves.

{--------------------------------------------------------}

I spend the next day pacing around the small home. The worry racks through me, and my mother's voice tells countless tales of the thousand ways they could all be hurt or dead. How Daryl is never coming back. Night falls only to be spent with countless sleepless hours passing rolling this way and that on the cold, empty bed.

I wake to the sounds of screams, the bed beside me still empty. I rush to gather my bow. To my horror, the bodies of once-loved members of the community walk the streets, fighting against the remaining folks in the town. I join the fray, notching arrow after arrow and letting them fly. The night is cold and dark as we defend Alexandria, my muscles aching in protest. It feels like the dead outnumber us, limbs reaching frantically for any bit of flesh they can find. By the time it's over, the sun is beginning to rise.

Rosita appears out of a house beside me. "Beta! He got in. He did this. Mary, she's gone." Rushing to her side, I catch her before her body can collapse in the dirt, her eyes closing. Out of nowhere, Gabriel runs to our side, scooping Rosita in his arms.

"We found them. Beta got away, but Gamma is okay. She's back, Rosita, are you okay?" I leave them to it, walking towards the graveyard where the work has already begun digging countless graves.

The sight of Aaron walking towards me sends me sprinting at him. He's alone, and looking like he's been through hell.

"What happened?" I demand, "Where's Daryl? The others?" Aaron places his hand on my shoulder, and explains the events of the night before, exhaustion dripping from each word.

"Daryl went off to try to find Connie and Magna, he's still out there," Aaron admits. He tells me the rest got separated on the trip back to Alexandria.

"I'm going after him. Tell me where you last saw him." I demand, pulling my old map from the bag around my waist.

"You can't, it's too dangerous," Aaron tries, but I hold up a hand to him.

"Show me where he was, or I'll go in blind. Your choice." He holds my gaze for a moment, before sighing and taking the map from my shaky hands. He circles a few locations on the map and hands me an extra knife. "Be careful, watch the hands and movements of all walkers you come across. I'll meet you at Hilltop, it's closer to his last location, and we'll have to take the wounded there," 

"Thank you, can I trust you to ensure Dog is looked after?" He nods solemnly, and I leave him to discuss the events of the night with the others. I head out the gate and into the wilderness beyond. One way or another, I'd find Daryl and bring him back to me.

{--------------------------------------------------------}

I travel quickly and quietly through the eerily quiet woods, down abandoned roads and across fields until I reach the border. Steeling my nerves, I cross the line into Alpha territory, and towards the circle that Aaron drew on my map. In a small opening in the woods, I come across a clear battle scene, unmoving bodies of both people and walkers scatter the group. I spy Daryl's crossbow bolts through the heads of the a few downed bodies and follow the trail of blood I both hope is, and isn't his. It looks like too much.

I'm about to come up on an old garage when I hear a twig snap behind me and I whirl around, bow raised and arrow at the ready. I come face to face with a young girl with long dark hair. Her own weapon, a long stick similar to the ones I've noticed around Alexandria, is at the ready, her stance practiced and defensive.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" She asks, fear trickling into her voice despite her best efforts.

"I'm Rosemary," I say, keeping my aim steady. "I'm looking for someone. His name is Daryl, have you seen him?" I ask.

"Wait, Daryl? Are you from Alexandria?" My eyes widen, "I'm Lydia, I... was staying there."

"Yeah, I've heard about you. From what Daryl has told me, you're a good person. Can I trust you not to attack if I lower my bow?" She nods, letting her staff drop to her side and stands up straight.

"What happened?" She asks, and I fill her in on all I know, until now with the trial leading into that garage. "That's a lot of blood.." Lydia remakes, and I follow her gaze to the still wet blood coating parts of the greenery.

"I know. So I need to go, if he's in there he'll need help."

"And if my mother's in there, you'll need me. I might be able to stop her from harming you two." I observe her, searching for any sign she's lying or tricking her, then nod my agreement and we start moving together towards the open door.

As we turn the corner and peer inside, Lydia gasps and rushes to the side of a bald, muck-covered woman.

"Momma," she cries, grasping her hands. My eyes scan the building, following the line of blood behind an old work table. There, Daryl lies covered in blood. His eyes are closed and his long hair covers most of his face. Mud and blood coat his face.

"Daryl!" I cry as I run to his side, slamming into my knees. My hands cup his face while my eyes scan his body, noting the stab wound in his leg. I work quickly, pulling water and medical supplies from my bag. I clean his wound and carefully stitch it shut, before wrapping it to the best of my abilities. His eyes flutter open and he stares up at me. "You're going to be okay, I got you." Daryl leans his weight on me as I help him to his feet.

"Rose? How did you-" I shush him, brushing the hair from his eyes with my free hand. Lydia still kneels over her mothers, the woman's eyes closed and body appearing limp.

"Is she dead?" I ask, shuffling closer. Lydia shakes her head.

"I couldn't, but she's out for now. Is he alright?" She moves to his other side, bearing some of the weight. Daryl groans as we slowly move out into the daylight.

"We need to get him to Hilltop. There was an attack on Alexandria, they're bringing the wounded there,"

"This way," She says, pointing in a direction I assume leads to Hilltop. We move in silence, practically carrying the half-conscious man. The sounds of the forest surround us, wind rustling the leaves and blowing the last of Autumn's multicoloured stragglers down to crunch under our feet. Somewhere in the distance, a crow caws three times. Once the lack of conversation finally becomes too uncomfortable, I glance at Lydia to see tears silently streaming down her face.

"Are you okay?" I ask lamely, starting to pant from the effort of holding Daryl's weight.

"Yeah," She says, wiping her face with her free forearm. "She's my mom, ya know? It's hard."

"Trust me, I know. Mine was... similar, in a way. All these years later I still hear her voice talking to me sometimes. It's been quieter since it got here, and I'm starting to move forward. You will too, you're strong." I give her a small, strained smile.

"Thank you, I'm glad it was you who came for him." She returns the smile, and we continue our journey, swapping war stories about horrible parenting.

We feel Daryl wake beside us, and slowly put weight on his legs. He gives me a look, groans and throws his hand in the air, in the opposite direction of where we are. "This way," he says, "My bike's hidden back a ways." Without another word, he hobbles away from us.

"Hilltop's not much further, and they need to be warned. You go after him, I'll meet you there." Lydia says.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'll move quicker alone, besides, can't all fit on the bike." She gives me a quick hug, before continuing on her path to the next community. Jogging lightly, I catch up to Daryl quickly, following his lead through the woods.

"Hell are you doing out here?" He snaps once I reach him, pausing to fix me with a stern glare.

"Looking for you! Aaron came back alone and said you were still out here, you could have died."

"I was fine on my own, you don't gotta risk yerself like that."

"Fine? Daryl you were bleeding out on a cement floor five feet from Alpha!" I shout, staring at him incredulously.

"Keep yer voice down." He scolds, and stalks towards me, forcing me backwards. My back presses against a tree, his hand coming to rest on the trunk beside my head. "Ya got a death wish or somethin? Christ woman," His voice is low, dangerous, and ungodly attractive.

"No, but apparently you do." I try to keep my voice steady, my body reacting to his nearness. "I wasn't just going to stay there, not knowing if you were coming back to me." I snap, shoving at him.

"I was gonna come back!" He growls, "Don't be a dumbass, runnin' off into the woods like that."

"That's exactly what you did! Running off to save others, no thought about yourself, you almost wound up dead!"

"But I didn't!"

"Cause I fucking got there in time! Fucking asshole. You're all I've got now, don't you get that? you're-" I'm cut off by his lips crashing to mine. I freeze, my hands coming to rest against his broad chest. The hand previously above my hand grabs my waist, and our lips move together. Slow and hesitant at first, then his tongue traces my bottom lip, and I gasp. He takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, I nibble at his bottom lip, and have to squeeze my legs shut at the groan that escapes him. Daryl notices the movement, and he moves his knee between my legs. His upper thigh presses against me, and I bite back a moan as his tongue explores my mouth. He grinds harder, and I feel his smirk when the moan escapes despite my attempt to stop it.

"Daryl," I gasp, his hands sliding up and down my side, before gripping my waist and pressing his body fully against mine. He moves his head down, lips finding the soft skin behind my ear and pressing a gentle kiss there. My hips move on their own, grinding myself against his leg. I freeze when he flinches, having accidentally pushed his injured leg too far.

"Fuck, ow," He pulls back, examining the bandage. "Damn leg," He runs a hand through his hair.

"Shit, I'm sorry! Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good." He looks back up at me sheepishly. "I'm sorry I- I don't do that sorta thing much..." I see the redness covering his cheeks. "I'm probably not the greatest."

"God, no," I protest, "You are amazing I-" He shuts me up with another rough kiss, and I melt into it. It has been way too long since I've done this. To my dismay, he pulls back too quickly.

"We should get goin'... Hilltop will need us." Daryl's voice comes out low, raspy and strained. He releases me from the tree and my knees buckle. I reach out, barely catching myself with my arms around his neck. The archer's hands wrap around my waist, a large hand pressed to the small of my back. I hear him chuckle, and smack his chest lightly, pulling away to stand on my own.

"Shut up,"

"Didn't say nothin'," He says, "This way, bike's not much further." Leading me easily through the woods, I follow behind, observing the skillful way he tracks his way back. Despite his leg, he moves quickly and quietly, like a phantom in the dark. My mind drifts as I watch his muscular frame ahead of me, scanning every inch of him. His winged vest fits him like a glove, and the strong muscles and bulging veins on his arms flex distractingly. "Got somethin' to say or just gonna stare?" He chaffs, coming to a stop by a bush. He moves branches and foliage aside and frees his motorbike from its concealment.

"Just admiring, you know your way around well."

"Learned young. Had ta." He replies shortly, and I don't push any further. He straddles the bike and revs it to life. Daryl motions for me to get on, and I comply, sitting behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist.

I try to sit in silence, to ignore the heat between my legs and my degraded thoughts. After a short while into the ride, the unforgiving horniness wins. I use one hand to brush his hair out of the way and begin kissing his neck from behind him, nibbling as I go. I feel him tense as I slide my hands down his stomach and along his thighs, narrowly missing the still-hard bulge in his jeans. I feel more than hear the groan that escapes him, and we swerve on the road for a brief moment before he regains control and straightens us out. I move one arm back to grip firmly around him, keeping myself steady.

"Rose..." he calls back to me, tone full of warnings, ones I ignore. My free hand kept exploring him, gliding along his toned stomach, and muscular chest. I reach down, and lift the edge of his shirt, feeling the soft skin beneath and trace the path leading to the button of his jeans. They're raised slightly from the tent pressing persistently against the fabric.

With a feather-light touch, I slide my hand along his length on top of the denim. I feel the vibration of his moan with my body tight against his back. Gaining confidence, I apply more pressure and stroke him again, feeling his stiff cock strain harder against its confines. I stroke it again, shivering at the groans escaping him. My own arousal growls impossibly stronger, my pussy warm and wet. I resume kissing his neck, sucking at the nape and biting softly, then harder.

As the gates to Hilltop come into view, I stop my teasing, replacing my arm around him. He slows the bike to a stop and turns to face me, eyes glossy.

"You're going to pay for that later."