Unbreakable threads

Chapter one hundred and fourteen: Daryl confesses everything.

He couldn't stop himself from snapping, his frustration and hurt bubbling over into words that came out harsher than he intended. "Yeah, I know that," he growled, his voice sharp. "Ain't like you didn't tell me already."

Alyssa flinched slightly at his tone, but before she could respond, Daryl kept going, his emotions getting the better of him. "You think I don't see what you're doin'?" he snapped. "Messin' around with those women in the community? They're just usin' you, Alyssa. You're just some experiment to them 'cause they're lonely and don't got husbands no more."

Alyssa's eyes widened, shock and anger flooding her expression as his words hit her. But Daryl wasn't done.

"You're better than that," he muttered, his voice quieter but no less intense. "You're goin' for women twice your damn age 'cause you're upset over... over me."

The accusation hung in the air like a grenade, and Alyssa's grip on his vest tightened as her own anger flared. The worst part was that he wasn't entirely wrong—she was hurt over him, over their broken bond, over everything they'd lost. But the way he said it, the way he reduced her choices to a reaction to him, cut deep.

"Seriously, Daryl?" she shot back, her voice sharp. "You think this is about you? You think I'm some pathetic little kid who can't figure her shit out without you? Newsflash—I know what I'm doing. And maybe you don't like it, but it's my damn life."

Alyssa finally snapped, her voice rising above the roar of the bike and the blaring horn in the distance. "What did you think was going to happen, Daryl? What did you think I'd say if you just told me normally? You didn't have to push me away, for fuck's sake!"

Her hands tightened on his vest, trembling as her emotions poured out. "You're not a creep or whatever the hell you thought you were," she continued, her voice cracking slightly. "We've always been... complicated. But that's us. That's who we've always been."

Alyssa exhaled shakily, her voice softening just slightly as she added, "I don't know what to say to you, Daryl. I really don't. I don't know how to handle this. But I do know you didn't have to make it this way."

The bike sped on, the tension between them as palpable as the growls of the herd trailing behind them. For a moment, Daryl finally spoke, his voice rough but quieter than before. "I didn't know what else to do, Alyssa. I thought... I thought I was protectin' you."

Alyssa let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Protecting me? From what, Daryl? From you? I didn't need protecting from you. I needed you to stay. That's all I ever needed."

His grip tightened on the handlebars, his knuckles white as he confessed, "How can I protect you when I don't even know how I feel toward you? When I could be the threat..."

Alyssa's chest tightened at his words, the sheer self-loathing in his voice hitting her harder than anything else could. Without thinking, her hand shot out, smacking his back firmly. "You're never the threat, you fucking idiot!" she shouted, her anger and frustration pouring out in her tone.

Daryl winced at the blow, his body flinching reflexively, and Alyssa immediately froze. Her hand hovered in the air as the realization of what she'd just done sank in. She didn't know the full details of Daryl's past—he had never told her, not directly—but she'd seen the scars. She'd caught glimpses of them when he took his shirt off without realizing she was around. She didn't need the details to understand he had suffered... something.

"I'm sorry, Daryl," she said quickly, her voice shaking as guilt flooded her. "I didn't mean to—"

Her words faltered, and she swallowed hard, unsure how to make it right. She wasn't good at this—talking about feelings, apologizing—but she knew she'd crossed a line, even if it wasn't intentional.

Daryl shook his head slightly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "It's fine," he muttered gruffly, though his tone was tight, and the tension in his shoulders was unmistakable.

"No, it's not," Alyssa insisted, her voice softening as her grip on his vest tightened again. "I shouldn't have done that. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

Daryl didn't respond immediately, but the silence between them was heavy, filled with unspoken words and emotions they both struggled to process. Finally, he sighed, his voice low and rough as he said, "You didn't mean nothin' by it. I know that."

Alyssa rested her forehead against his back for a brief moment, the weight of everything—his confession, her reaction, the chaos around them—pressing down on her. "Daryl, you've never been a threat to me," she said softly. "Never. I need you to understand that."

Daryl's whole body tensed at Alyssa's words, her voice daring him to confront what he truly thought of himself. "What do you think you are, Daryl, for feeling this?" she pressed, her tone sharp and almost taunting.

Daryl's grip tightened on the handlebars, his shoulders stiff as he finally muttered, "I feel like a pe—"

"Don't." Alyssa cut him off, her voice fierce and trembling with emotion. She fought back the urge to hit him again, her frustration and anger bubbling to the surface. "Don't even say it. Don't let me fucking hear that word come out of your mouth, Daryl. I'm 20—not 5."

Her words hung in the air for a moment before she continued, her voice still sharp but now tinged with something softer—almost pleading. "Yeah, you met me when I was 17, but I wasn't some damn kid then either. And now? Now, Daryl, I've been fingers deep in women in the community that are damn near mid-forties. You haven't seen anyone bat an eyelid about that, have you?"

Daryl's jaw tightened, his silence deafening as he tried to process her words. She wasn't wrong, but it didn't make the turmoil inside him any easier to bear. He couldn't shake the guilt, the feeling that what he felt for her was somehow wrong, even if every rational part of him knew she was an adult, knew they had been through more together than most people experienced in a lifetime.

"Stop beating yourself up for this," Alyssa added, her voice softening but still firm. "You're not... whatever you think you are, Daryl. You've never hurt me. You've only ever protected me, looked out for me. You think I don't know that? You think I don't see that?"

"You're not a monster, Daryl," she said softly, her grip on his vest tightening again. "So stop acting like you are."

Daryl's tense shoulders softened slightly as Alyssa's arms wrapped around his back in a hug. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes, grounding him amidst the chaos—the walkers still following, the relentless blaring of the horn, and the uncertainty of what was happening back at Alexandria. Even with all of that pressing down on them, he felt himself relax a little more under her touch.

"Daryl," Alyssa said softly, her voice cutting through the noise around them. "I love you, alright? No matter... what."

Her words struck him, and he nodded slightly, his grip on the handlebars easing just a little. "I love you too," he muttered, his voice rough and thick with meaning, though his emotions were still a tangled mess.

Alyssa leaned her forehead against his back for a brief moment before continuing, her voice firmer now, carrying that fiery determination he had always admired in her. "I promise you, if we don't fucking die, I'll talk to you about this properly. We'll figure it out, okay? But right now, we gotta keep going. Keep our people safe."

Daryl nodded again, the weight of her words both comforting and grounding. She was right—now wasn't the time for this. They couldn't afford to lose focus, not with everything on the line. "Alright," he muttered, his voice quieter now. "We'll talk later."

Alyssa's grip tightened on his vest once more before she pulled back slightly, sitting upright again. The tension between them still lingered, but it was no longer suffocating. There was a mutual understanding now, a silent agreement that they'd address everything once the immediate danger had passed.

Daryl revved the bike, his focus sharpening as they sped forward. The horn grew louder, the walkers still trailing them, but they kept moving. Together. For now, that was enough.