So here it is.

I'm at a loss for words. Not the best thing to be when you're a writer, really. Please enjoy this my darling readers, this chapter is dedicated to all of you.

For the last time, thanks again for the love, reviews, the follows and favourites.

You are all my stars in a sea of darkness.

❤️❤️❤️

Their budding sex life was not new for very long.

Life was not routine, thankfully, but their involvement with each other was ordinary to them. Even in his memories Daryl struggled to see Brooke as anything but what he saw her as now. It would be an odd reminder, not alarming so much as mildly surprising, when his mind wandered back to how they were when they first met.

Both of them. They both were different now, to each other and themselves.

The community, the boys and girls of the Camp, were his comrades. The adults his friends. These people were taught how unstable this world was. They were not afraid of it crumbling beneath them, they were afraid of crumbling with it.

Carol had shown them the light. Had shown Daryl her plans for Spring. She was going to develop parts of the unlived buildings, search for other settlements as a source of trade, find some ex-doctors and establish a hospital. She didn't have dreams for them, she had a vision and he knew that she was going to do what she needed to achieve that.

They spoke about it one morning in the barn. They cleaned the place once a week, it was their thing. As she shovelled shit into the bucket, she asked him something.

"What's your plan Daryl?"

He littered some of the hay in Google's pen, "Plan?"

"Plan."

The cow, who'd grown to like him, nudged her head against his arm. He petted her lightly.

"Ain't got no plans Carol. W'adya think this is, summer school?"

She shot him a look, "Come on, nothing? I know times aren't exactly easy but you need to have a reason, a thing to keep you going." She said, "What's yours, if you have one?"

He shrugged, "Hate t' disappoint but only things I ever plan for are 'f my family are concerned. We're here now, so ain't nothing for me to think 'bout."

"Family as in Judith and Brooke?"

He nodded, keeping face. She returned the nod in understanding.

"So whatever makes them happy."

He nodded. She patted his shoulder, "Brooke came up to me and asked if she can have a more active role in the Camp's defences."

He frowned, "She didn' mention nothin' to me."

"It was a little unexpected," she admitted, "Her ideas are pretty out there. She's got opinions on things like scouts and attack formations and expanding the Camp's reach and numbers. Mentioned the place you were searching for, Alexandria. Thinks that when we're more stable we should check it out"

"Not bad ideas."

She nodded, "I didn't think so either. It was refreshing hearing it from someone other than me."

"What did you say?"

"I told her that I'd think about it, and honestly I think she's right. What she wants is too premature, we just don't have the people or the resources for it, but one day we will." She went on shovelling, "I want to take her under my wing. That girl's a leader, she's got goals for this place. There aren't many like her left."

His chest swelled with an unconditional pride. It warmed him when others recognised her potential, made him feel happy to be even the slightest bit associated with her. Carol noticed it and smiled despite herself.

"She spoke about your place here too."

The feeling faded.

"W'at she say?"

"She says that as far as hunting and tracking went you're still aces, but your calling is with children. She thinks you should be in charge of training them. You know, teaching them the essentials."

"They learnt that already."

She stopped, "Daryl of the people in camp only 3 of us have lived on the outside for longer than a couple of days at most. They're being trained by people who need training themselves."

"An' Brooke figured I'd be happy to play school? W'at she expectin' me t' do, take the damn kids on runs for days at a time?"

"Among other things."

He shook his head, "'S stupid, that's w'at it is."

"It's a start." She said, "They already look up to you because they know you've seen it all. I'm not going to kid myself and say that all of those kids will be alive a year from now, but you'll help to keep the numbers high."

He sighed, musing it over.

"Ain't the best sort for teachin' Carol." He said, "You know that. She knows it. W'at's the point if I can't do it?"

"Because she thinks you can." He told him, "She knows you can, with every fibre in her being."

So it was decided, informally and without much conversation on Daryl's part. It was all over when Carol said that to him. Brooke was a vice, and he was at her mercy.

The only thing greater than his affection for her was his infinite love for Judith.

His daughter, Judith.

His child.

The little one wasn't wary of the others at the Camp anymore. They loved playing with her, reading to her, singing with her. Daryl would watch her with them, little pig tailed blonde curls, brighter than gold, bouncing along as she passed the children and ran around them.

He didn't feel guilty when she called him 'Daddy'. Not anymore. Never for her.

The kids made her cleverer. Too clever sometimes. She asked him what a 'Mommy' was, to which he explained simply as the girl version of a 'Daddy'. Without much surprise she said that was Brooke, and Daryl agreed.

Why wouldn't he?

She bathed her, clothed her, fed her. She played with her when she was bored, sang to her when she was tired, danced with her when she was too awake. She brought toys for her on runs and taught her nursery rhymes. She calmed her when she'd cry and scold her when she was naughty, which was rare when she was around Brooke. Judith idolised her, adored her, in every sense of the word.

What was most important was how strongly Brooke loved her. She loved her with an all encompassing love. The sort that would never fault if tested. Should fate be cruel she would give her life for Judith to live hers, and Daryl was more certain of this than whether the sun would rise tomorrow.

She'd sooner let Daryl die then let Judith die, and she loved him. Fiercely loved him. She had never ushered the words, but she didn't need to. He just knew.

They didn't have a song. They never formally established their relationship, there was no talk of what the other was to them, or whether this was something more or less than the other thought. They didn't have a date for their anniversary, they'd never been on an actual date at all, and frankly neither cared.

What they had was each other.

That was more than most could claim in this new world.

Daryl didn't need more than that. He knew Brooke didn't too. It didn't stop the pair from expressing it, in showing it in the little things.

The day after he first really touched her, after he came beside her, after he saw her as bare for him, he found a box of new arrows neat on the bed from her run earlier that day. One time, before or after he couldn't remember, he came home found she brought his clothes back from the laundry for him. Then there was the fact that she always swapped jobs on the rotar with him when he was to work in the kitchen, never making a fuss about it at all.

She never told him it was her who'd done it. She'd ask later if the arrows were the right ones, or if she forgot anything from the laundry, or if he even wanted her to swap with him on kitchen day, but she'd never outright say she went out of her to do those things. It was one part modesty and another irrelevance to her. She loved him, she showed it. She didn't want and neither saw the need to flaunt it.

But he wanted to, at least once. For her.

He wasn't much of a planner, not for these sorts of things. It took a lot of effort and preparation, and he did think it was pretty silly how invested he got. Merle would have called him a pussy, or desperate, or out of her league, but fuck it he just wanted to do this for her. When it was ready he got Carol to babysit Judith, geared themselves up for the trip and left the Camp with Brooke, confused and intrigued, by his side.

They took the truck to get to the main road. After sorting out a couple of walkers around, Daryl led her down it. They stopped when they reached a covered car.

She frowned, wiping her knife on the car cover.

"What are you up to?"

He smiled at her, "Lift it."

Her brows furrowed but she was smiling as her hands grabbed the light material and removed it. The weeks of hard work paid off in milliseconds when he saw her face.

Her jaw had dropped, agape.

"It's a fucking Challenger." she couldn't believe it, "Fuck Daryl, it's a Dodge Challenger."

He nodded, handed on the roof, "1970. First generation."

She tore her eyes away from it before looking at him, "Where did you find this?"

"Here."

"Here? Someone left a sports car in the middle of the fucking freeway?"

This was better than he thought she'd act, "Yep. Keys still in the ignition too. Just sittin' here, full tank o' gas and four good wheels."

Her eyes glistened, "We're going to drive it?"

She knew they were going to drive it, why else would they be here. Still, he saw it, saw the slimmer of doubt that this was all too good to be true and that any minute they would have to go back. She looked like a child, so full of fragile hope that depended on Daryl's answer.

He nodded, opening the car door before making his way to the passenger seat. She hopped in, hands tracing the seams of the wheel, eyes glancing around the dashboard, her mind taking everything in categorical order. She looked at him, beaming.

"Daryl," her voice was crisp, "This is so fucking cool."

He smirked, "Damn it girl, ya just gonna look at it all day? Start the engine."

She twisted the key. Daryl heard the motor wake, the slight groan of the rusted engine working once again. She laughed, hands gripped on the steering wheel as the sound spoke in rumbles to them.

The excitement was short lived. She shifted the gear to drive. It lurched forward before stalling to a stop.

Both frowned. She turned to him, brows now raised.

"Checked the engine?"

Daryl nodded quick, "Fixed the damn thing m'self."

He opened the car door, lifting the hood. She got out and joined him. A small cloud of grey smoke wafted above.

He went back into the car, Brooke sticking her head in to take a look at the engine. The dashboard blinked, a tiny red light telling him that the battery, the one he jump started too many times to count, was throwing another tantrum.

Typical.

He joined her again, "Fuckin' battery."

She looked up, grease clinging to her green shirt. Or actually, Daryl's shirt. She decided about a month ago it was too nice for him and she was to wear it from now on.

She didn't seem fazed, if anything she was still chirpy.

"Could grab the truck and bring it over?" She said, "Or hook a car nearby?"

He shrugged, "'Fya want."

She wrapped her hands around his waist and pulled him between her legs, her body leaned against the open hood. He frowned.

"W'at?"

"You don't have to sulk because it didn't work." She said, "This is still pretty great."

He grunted, "Was workin' fine the o'er day. Fast too. Looked around for a new battery but figured wouldn' need it if it was runnin' fine."

"You drove it?" She looked excited again, "How was it?"

He smirked, "Somethin' you'd wish you'd a done."

She rolled her eyes, stood up tall and kissed him light on the lips before breaking free. He watched her make her way to the front seat, get in and shut the door. He took out a cigarette, lit up and did the same, sitting this time in the driver's seat instead.

He didn't bother trying again. He asked if she wanted to and she shook her head. They sat, silence familiar, as Daryl enjoyed his smoke and they both enjoyed their company.

She looked at him,, eyes firm with a frightening certainty.

"I love you." She said, "You know that, right?"

He had the smoke between his teeth, about to suck another drag. He looked at her, heat eating the paper and turning it to ash.

It wasn't a revelation, not something she decided to admit to both of them for the first time. She delivered it as a cold fact, stoic and almost unfeeling in the sentimentality of it all. Except for the question, the desire for him to know out loud the affection he already knew she had for him.

He nodded.

"I do." He said.

A small breath, a sigh of relief, escaped her lips.

She stretched, knees tight by her chest as her legs rested on the dashboard. He flicked some ash out the partly rolled window, eyes on her as she relaxed.

"I know you do to." She said, "This isn't me asking you to say it or any of that. I just wanted to tell you I know. And I love you too."

She looked at him, serene. He believed her, every word. There was nothing she expecting from him, no standard he had to meet to prove his worth to her. Her hand rested on his lap, his own intertwining with hers as he soaked into it all.

He didn't have to tell her anything.

He wanted to though.

"How I feel 'bout ya ain't anythin' I felt before," he admitted to her, "Anythin' so strong that is."

She mused it over, "I get what you mean. I was thinking about it the other day. You know, I don't think I was ever in love before," she told him, "The other time I thought I was, but when I think of how I felt then to now it's the difference between hot and cold. You warm me Daryl, you warm me to the core."

It touched him. He knew the feeling. He had to clarify something though.

"Y'ain't sayin' that cos the bastard hurt ya."

She shook her head, "No, and that was hard to accept before. Whatever he and I had is child's play to how I feel for you." she said, "It would've been the same even if he hadn't hurt me."

That they'd never be sure of. The world what ifs and maybes was a useless one to dwell on. Still, he let himself believe her, because in that moment she believed those words and that was all the truth he needed to justify doing so.

He flicked the butt out the window, exhaled the remaining smoke and brought her hands to his lips. The delicate skin, chapped and sore kissed the knuckles of her dirtied ones. He had no ring to give her, no grand display to tell her how she became the sun his world revolved around, so he kissed her instead. It was as good as any promise he'd make to stay true to her, one he'd keep to himself forever.

She unlaced their fingers and brought her hand to his face, pulling him towards her in a languid kiss. He sunk into it, breathed it in as she danced with his tongue and nibbled against his mouth.

It was getting heavy. He broke it apart and rested his forehead on hers. They could continue this when they had space to move, there was no rush.

The look she gave him spoke otherwise. He cocked a brow.

"W'at?"

"I've got a condom."

His heart skipped a beat. He had to replay the words in his head.

"Why?"

She blushed, "I've been carrying it for a while now," she said, "Just in case."

Was she insinuating what he thought, hoped, feared she was insinuating.

"Now?" He asked her, "In the car?"

She smirked, "What?"

He shrugged, "Nothin', just, dontcha want a bed. Want to make it good for ya and-"

"Daryl, it'll be just as good in a bed as it would be here. And if this is your way of saying you want my first time after what happened to be some place familiar, fair enough, but it doesn't matter to me because all I want from you, is you."

She was always so blunt with her feelings for him. More so since they started being more intimate. He felt sick, fear and happiness bubbling in his stomach as he watched her look at him with such adoration and determination.

He kissed her sound before answering.

"The back o' a Dodge huh?" He said running a hand up her thigh, "Got some teen fantasy ya never got t' cross off ya bucket list?"

She smirked, "Who wouldn't want to have sex in this car?"

"Fair 'nough." He said, "Ya sure?"

She nodded, "I'm sure."

She crawled into the back seat as Daryl rolled up the window and locked the doors. She handed him his crossbow which he flung in the back when they got in the first time and he crawled back with her. She shed her clothes first, Daryl sat at the opposite side of where she was sat as she striped bare, putting her garments on the front seat.

He didn't remove his. She frowned. He smiled, real and true as he looked at how comfortable she'd grown with him. Her body, a body he'd seen naked on a frequent occasion now, welcomed the way his eyes worshipped her. He never leered or gawked, his baby blue eyes trailed down every bump, every discolouration, every bit of lagging skin that was starting to fill itself out again, with respect. He couldn't do anything but. Every time he saw her, clothed or unclothed, was like coming home.

"Ya beautiful."

That got her cheeks pink again. She shrugged, "You're beautiful." She said, "You're the most beautiful person I know."

He rolled his eyes, "Goin' keep spittin' that chic lit shit all day t' me?"

"Fuck off and get undressed already."

"Admirin' the view." He threw back, "Don' rush me."

Pinker, she felt exposed. Her head held itself a little higher as she spread her legs wider, her tuff of pubic hair glistened with fresh moisture. Her hands sat by it, fingers fluffing the curls as he felt his throat dry.

"Don't take them off just yet." She said instead, "I, I want to touch myself. In front of you."

He didn't know if it was a question, but it did stir his loins. He swallowed thick and leaned back, his own hands close to his prisoned genitals. He nodded, slow, eyes half open as he watched her fingers trail down to that coveted opening of hers.

This was exciting her. He added this act of voyerism on things he remembered turned her on. He sat and watched as her eyes were on his eyes, her dripping pussy coating her fingers in moorish delight. She brought a hand to her breast, tweaking and squeezing the erect nipple as her other hand did the same to her clit.

Soon her eyes were closed. Soon that hand that was working her glorious breasts was fingering the inside of her entrance. Daryl watched, hand palming himself through his jeans as she bit her lip and tried hard no to come undone as fast as she did. When she came, body arching forward, mouth parted in painful ecstasy, he was harder than he'd ever been ever.

He gave her little time to recover before scooting over to her, removing her fingers from inside of her and bringing them to his mouth. She opened her eyes as she watched him suck strong. Her taste was addictive, nothing striking about it but it indulged him to no end. He bent his head down and lapped it in a few slow licks, her post orgasmic body shuddering at the intensity of it.

He wanted this woman. He loved this woman. He had never wanted to be inside another person, to be so close, so joined with another person, before in his whole life.

She was breathing heavy. Her hands had found their way to his jacket, urging him to take it off. He complied, shucking his shirt, shoes and pants along with them. His erection stood in anticipation, ready.

"The condom's in my pack, by your foot." Her voice was breathy, tired.

He nodded. He opened the pack fast, his hand fisting inside it, searching for the wrapping. He found it in seconds, opened it and put it on. He looked at her, kissing her soft.

"Know it don' matter 'cos we're covered, but wanted t' tell ya ain't got anythin' catchable. I'm clean."

She looked at him and shrugged, "I'm clean to." She said, "George didn't do anything to me down there, and I know Oliver was clean. I'm clean too."

He was relieved. He just didn't like the idea of those assholes giving her something as well as hurting her like that. She kissed his forehead and brought a hand on his shaft, stroking it.

He hitched a breath, "Jesus." He let a noise out of his throat, "Won't last. Please stop."

She laughed, a smile kind and wide on her face. She kissed him again.

"We can take it as long as you like." She said, "I just want to be with you."

He nodded, shifting as she lay herself down. Her body sunk into the cushioned car seats, breasts weighed down and nippy as he adjusted himself above her. It was uncomfortable from this angle, his one leg on the floor, the other kneeled as he bent down to kiss her. He trailed his hands along her skin, caressing her with kisses and touches that she shivered against.

Her body wrapped against his, her hands anchoring his frame for the main event as her thighs bent and spread once more. He reached down and held himself at her entrance, the latex of the condom lubricated thick for her.

He looked at her, one last knowing look. She kissed him, before resting her gaze on his. Eyes locked on eyes, not once leaving as he pushed himself inside her leaking entrance.

It was tight, uncomfortably so for a millisecond, as the member rubbed against encompassing ribbed walls. Then he felt the heat. The warm, hot feeling, long forgotten since his last sexual encounter, surround his throbbing member. That feeling was enough to cement any of doubts he had of this lasting long. He was solid, inside of her, and he was suffocating in pleasure.

Then the haze of the entrance stilled as he saw pained features adjust to the impalement. He panicked then, did not dare move as he watched her remember the familiar sting of fullness. Quarter of a minute passed until she focused on him again, face flushed beneath him.

"Y'okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah." She said, "I'm okay."

He kept still. Another second passed between them. She smiled, small, reaching up to kiss him.

"You can move," she told him, "You're not hurting me."

It was a fear of his. She knew it. There was only one way to make this somewhat familiar, and he was going to do his damnest to make it as good for her as possible.

He pulled out again, slow. The slick clung onto him as the cool air meet the exposed skin. He thrusted back in the same pace, her face wincing a fraction as he did so. He kissed her, put his head by his ear, as he repeated the motions, slow and precise.

It felt nice, it wasn't mind blowing, but the novelty did please him. He kept at the pace, sucking on her earlobe as the grip on his back eased with each thrust. After a while, he spoke to her in breathy fragmented sentences.

"It feels good?"

Her response was affirmative, a whimpered yes. Her body was starting to buck up, the rhythm not quiet meeting his thrusts just yet. She moaned, soft and lazy, as he kissed beneath her earlobe, sucking hard and relentless.

"Daryl," she was whispering his name, sighs escaped her as his every thrust began to match her every rise. They were getting harder, the impact less gentle, "It's okay, please."

"Please w'at, Baby?" His voice was hoarse.

The pet name was new. He always felt stupid calling her stuff like that when they were finished, but it would just slip out. The shit ones too, 'baby', 'darling', he fucking call her 'love' one time and nearly died of shame then and there. She thought it was cute, she wasn't the type for a pet name but she told him his made her smile regardless. She looked at him, a flash of mischief spread on her face before being pushed down.

"Faster," she managed, "Please Daryl. Faster."

A long soft moan echoed deep from his throat. His control was teetering as the instinctive rutting kept on. Head inches from hers, forehead sweaty as he dropped his body on her slow, his weight pushing his penis deeper with every motion. He kissed her mouth, eyes hooded as his tongue danced along with hot opened kisses, as her movements became faster.

She wasn't shy at projecting how much she enjoyed this. They had to be so quiet back in the cabin, neither wanting to wake Judith and potentially scar her for life. Here, she was much more relaxed, she moaned free, not loud but loud enough for Daryl to know she felt good.

That he was making her feel good.

He sat himself up. One hand trailed away from her face to her heaving breasts, as the other wrapped her leg around his skinny waist. He pushed himself further, rutted aginast her faster as his eyes closed and his mouth began whimpering soft prayers of her name. He felt her hand rest on the hand on her breast, fingers clung against his before grasping his arm and pulling herself up.

He stopped, the movement taking him by surprise. She sat herself as straight, as she could manage, and his eyes fluttered open to see her head kissing light on the nape of his neck. He stayed still, hands traversing along her back and holding her close to him, face pressed into her hair as he inhaled her delicious scent.

It took the world to end for him to get this chance of happiness. Daryl wasn't one for words, he was no well spoken smooth talker, but God, he wished he was. He wished he could tell her everything he felt for her, everything she meant to him, everything she'd done for him.

He got soppy when they got intimate.

Now was no different.

He moved up, his hips lifted a fraction, moving slower than before but deeper than ever. She moved herself away from his neck and looked at him, pearls of sweat coating her skin like varnish, eyes that saw him like he saw her. One of them kissed the other soon after, he didn't know who, and he felt her hips move with his thrusts.

And he cradled her in his arms. Her own hands wrapped around his neck as they kissed. What started out as hard and fast slowed dramatically, more than he thought her body wanted. Still, this didn't feel like a movement of two bodies, it felt like a joining of souls.

This, somehow, was no longer sex. This was better. Holier.

She moaned, struggled, pained moans of trembling pleasure as they kept their pace. She cried between the movement of their mouths, his name never sounding sweeter than in this moment. She made his name sound precious, made him wish no one ever called him by his first name ever again, just her. He wished he could record the way his ears caught the delicious tones of her syllables as she whispered his name over and over and over again.

"Daryl,"

She was music.

"Daryl, yes, my Daryl."

He nearly came just then. He groaned thick, breaking their kisses and dropping his head to her breasts. He suckled on her, her head fell back, his hand supporting it as he sucked on her with fever. Her fingers tangled themselves between the ribbons of his hair, her breathing mixed with half sounded hitches as they moved. He sighed against her, his brows furrowed as the building pleasure ate against his core.

He lifted his head up and kissed her again. His pupils wide with lust and adoration for the woman on him.

"Don' think I'm gonna last."

Her hair was sticking to her face. They were still moving, but it almost felt like they had stopped. She smiled, tired but full, lips spread wide and loving.

She leaned her forehead on his.

"It's fine, darling, it's okay."

It wasn't okay, he wanted her to finish first, to enjoy it as much as she could. He loved this woman. He loved her.

"Wanna make ya feel good, baby." He said, "Only wanna make ya feel good."

"You do." She soothed, "You only do. You always do."

Perhaps this was heaven? Perhaps he had died and this was life on the other side? She was the light, an angel, a goddess.

"Never known how lonely I was 'til I found ya." he said, "Never knew how t' love proper before ya."

"Judith-"

"Ain't the same."

She held his head close to hers, planting a kiss against the nape of his neck. He was burying himself inside of her, "I love you Daryl. I love you."

That almost choked him. His fingers gripped on her as he pushed himself inside her. He had a few good thrusts in him left and he would be done.

She pushed herself down and rocked herself faster. He started growling in liberation, his orgasm inevitable and coming. Brooke lifted her head to kiss him hard, her own sounds playing against his.

His body jolted as he came. His eyes screwed shut, his mouth hung open and gasped out his bliss as he drowned in pleasure. It was all encompassing, his body was shaking because of Brooke, and when he was done he slumped against her. She stroked his hair as he caught his breath, his words escaping him before he could make sense of them.

"'Mazin'. Fuck." He blubbered, "Love ya so much."

He heard her laughing. His eyes opened, he didn't know they were still closed. He forced himself to lift his head.

She was flushed, her skin pink and patchy from the activity. She was breathing heavy, her face smirking as her chest rose and fell in quick successions. He felt his eyes droop as he looked at her, his own face going red at his latest display of affection.

"Should do that more often," she teased, "You're nicer."

He looked down. She stopped his head from turning away and held it in her hands. She brought him forward for a kiss, smiling against him.

"Ya didn' finish."

She shrugged, "Not important."

He looked at her. She tried to shimmy off of his softened cock. He stopped her.

She frowned, "What?"

"Let me finish ya off." He said.

She blushed. It was his turn to smirk. He didn't know why she got all embarrassed, it wasn't like he hadn't don't it to her before.

"If you want."

"If I want? If I'm honest I wanna sleep. It's if ya want."

She rolled her eyes, "Well I don't mind." She said, "You can sleep if you like, it's fine."

He eyed her. She was too shy to ask for it. She got like this from time to time, mostly after moments when they were extremely intimate with one another.

He kissed her soft and dropped his hand by her thigh. She tensed as he found her swollen nub, his fingers slick with her leaking juices. She took in a sharp breath, her body a sensitive rod of pleasure.

His other hand held her close, "Like makin' ya feel good." He said, "Want ya t' feel good."

She looked down, away from him. He titled her head up, stilling himself as he saw her eyes dewy and red. Panic bloomed from his features and he almost pushed himself away if it weren't for her grip on him.

"What's wrong?"

She smiled meekly, "Nothing," she said, "Absolutely nothing."

"Brooke?" His hands reached up to cup her face, "Ya upset."

She shook her head, hands meeting with his on her face. She took a shaky breath and swallowed it down thick.

"Sorry, it's not you don't worry, or this," she closed her eyes, "I'm not upset either, honest. Just, for a long time I thought that I'd never be able to do anything like this again, and I just did —*we* just did, and it was, God Daryl, I've never done it like this before. It's never felt like this ever, and I guess I'm happy that you did this to me. No one ever made me feel what you make me feel, and I'm thankful. That's all, I'm just thankful, and I'm being a baby about it."

"Thankful?"

"Thankful to you, for making me believe that this can really feel good." She tried to explain, "Thankful that you made me believe I can feel like this again."

He closed the gap between them into another embrace. Long, tight, his body a blanket for her insecurities. The parts of her that were so warped by her perception of herself, by the trauma she endured, by the sacrifices she made. Sure, he couldn't, wouldn't, say he understood every facet of her life from a personal level. This though, this declaration of thanks, this was more than a proclamation of sexual gratification or of love.

This was gratitude for his respect for her. For that he could relate. Respect was something they both had stripped from their lives in the past.

She was stroking his back, breathing slowed as they just held each other. She spoke, voice lazy, soft almost, with the slight hoarseness of emotion in her tone.

"I'd rather do this than have you jerk me off."

He smiled, smirked more like, as he rolled his eyes.

"Gotta way of endin' a moment."

There was a faint ripple of a laugh made whilst her lips were against his skin, "Yeah well, subtly isn't my strongest suit."

He felt his anxiety prickle within, "Ya sure this is okay? Know it finished quick, Don' mind-"

"I'm sure."

"Ya mind if we move then?"

She looked at him and smirked, "And you say I'm ruining the moment?"

"Damn it girl, let me get outta ya at least. Startin' ta hurt."

She laughed and slid off. He pushed her down with a kiss and lay his head on her stomach. She giggled, damn squeaked on the way down, as he lay them on the stretched car seat. She stroked his hair, his eyes half closed and ready for sleep.

"How long did you take fixing this car up?"

He didn't bother opening his eyes. They were closed all the way now.

"Couple o' weeks. Found it with Justin. He an' Mike helped but did most o' it myself."

"I can imagine, they're awful with cars."

"Was thinkin' of bringin' ya sooner, work on it with ya."

"That would've been fun," she said, "But I don't think you'd have liked having me work on it with you."

He twisted his head to get a better look at her and opened his eyes. She cocked a brow, face mischievous. She was setting them up for an argument they'd had before, one he knew she enjoyed.

"Know more 'bout cars. Just accept it."

"You know about the same amount as me."

"Bullshit, been here for longer. Seen more engines in my lifetime than you've got years on ya."

"Same here."

He grunted, "Glad I didn' fix it with ya. Can hear the naggin' now. 'Daryl, ya check the carborator? Daryl, gonna need somethin' to pump the tyres. Daryl, ya can't hotwire a Civic."

"You can't hotwire a Civic."

"Ya can, if it's old enough."

"Don't go talking about that when you're the one that nearly turned us into an all you can eat walker buffet."

"Fuck up once and ya bite me in the ass for it. Glad I didn' getcha to help me out, wouldn't hear the end o' it."

She was grinning. She was grinning so wide the sides of her mouth wrinkled.

"You're so full of shit."

"Ain' hold a candle t' ya."

"Also, I don't sound like that. That was a horrible impression of me."

"Was accurate. Ya sound just as annoyin' in real life."

She ruffled his hair. His smirk didn't falter and he kissed her above her navel. She kept petting his head.

"It was a nice surprise."

A hand traced circles on a precious area of skin as he answered her. He would lavish this body all day if he could. He'd never get bored.

He got up, body bent from the lack of space and leaned over to the front of the car. She sat up, curious. He reached over to the glove compartment and clicked it open.

He grabbed a package wrapped light in a white plastic bag and flopped it on her lap before sitting opposite her. She frowned, fingers eager to shed the material and reveal the objects.

It was a Justin Bieber CD.

It was two Jusitn Bieber CDs.

She broke out into a laugh.

"You didn't."

"Don' say I never did nothin' for ya."

"Oh my God," she shook her head, "I can't believe you got this?"

"Looked stupid grabbin' it too. Fuckin' Keegan thinks I'm some hard core fan or some shit. Keeps singin' t' me when he passes me at camp."

"Daryl I cannot believe you got this. This is hilarious."

"No it's stupid. 'S for your ears only, Don' wanna have t' hear Judy screamin' that shit from the top o' her lungs."

"I don't know, she's still loving that Backstreet Boys CD I got her the other day."

"And she's gonna keep lovin' it. Listened to some of this crap, wanted to know if it's as shit as I remember. Fuckin' awful, he sounds like a little bitch."

"Hater's gonna hate."

"Wouldn' make nobody listen to that, not even someone I hated."

"I love him Daryl. Love him."

"Know he's out there chewin' some poor bastard's brains for lunch, right?"

"I think your jealous of his perfection."

He shook his head, "Ya animal lovin', fur hatin' Bieber bummin' ass can say whatcha like, but I ain' ever goin' be jealous o' him."

She kissed him. He blinked, it was unexpected. When she was done she smiled at him and began to thank him properly.

"You make me laugh."

He always wanted to do that.

He shrugged, "Yeah, well, ya make me whole."

She looked at him, smiling like a fucking idiot and hugged him again. He let her, not like he'd fight her off of him. He'd never miss a chance to be close to her, not as long as his body still bled warm.

They spent most of the day in the Dodge. When they were back home she pounced on him again. He ravished her, pure and honest, and he revelled in how willing she was to become undone for him. He left to her to relax before bringing Judith home and playing the new CDs on Brooke's request.

To his horror Judith adored them.

She and Brooke sang along to all of it.

It was terrible.

Later that night he reflected back. Child fed and sleeping sound, Brooke curled beside him, her body in a deep slumber. He thought about it all from the beginning —his life, the onset of the end of the world, meeting his first family, losing his blood family, then getting his real one. He thought about it all in as much detail as his memory would allow.

He only drew one conclusion.

In retrospect he wasn't the fathering type. He wasn't the loving type either. Upon reflection, arms wrapped around the woman he loved, their daughter besides them, he realized just how wrong about himself he was.

He'd never felt happier for it.

AN:

Yep.

Yep it's over.

Don't mind me, just crying over here.

You have all been so wonderful to me, and honestly I couldn't have asked for such a wonderful readership. If any of you guys are on tumblr look me up! My url is on my profile, and I'd love to follow you! I enjoy talking to people of the fandom, lol.

A sequel for this is on the table, but it's depends on whether I have time to write it, so basically this may not be the end but this is the end for now.

Sorry, I'm really awful at letting go.

Again, you are all so brilliant.

Going to leave now.

Peace.

❤️❤️❤️

AKJSNA