EPILOGUE

Asha sneezed.

The prison library was dusty, motes sparkling in the fingers of early morning sun reaching through the window bars.

Daryl leant against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Asha seated at one of the long tables.

Her back was to him, but he heard her mutter disgustedly under her breath and with an angry twist of her wrist a crumpled ball of paper flew against the wall. It bounced once and came to rest in the open space between the table and wall.

It had plenty of friends.

'Bloody stupid idea,' Asha grumbled.

The corners of his mouth lifted. She sounded kind of cute when she was annoyed - and it wasn't directed at him.

He slipped forward on silent feet and brushed his fingers across the back of her neck.

She shot half way out of the chair.

'Goddamnit Daryl!' she squawked. 'How long have you been there?'

'Long enough. Whatever ya doing is making you mutter like a crazy person.'

'Oh shut up.'

He slid his fingers along her shoulder and she tilted her cheek against his hand.

'Ya got up early,' he said.

She'd slipped out of the double bed he'd built them in one of the cells they shared before the sun was up. He'd dozed for a bit, but he was so used to having her beside him that he hadn't really been able to go back to sleep without her there.

She'd been sleeping beside him for so long now that he barely wondered at it anymore.

'It's my own fault,' she sighed. 'Rick's been at me for days about this but I kept putting it off.'

She smoothed a fresh piece of paper but then her shoulders slumped and she scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

Daryl was immediately concerned.

'Ya ain't getting another headache?' he said, hands skimming up her neck to the pressure points at the base of her skull.

In the twelve months or so since they'd been back at the prison she'd suffered sporadic blinding headaches. She blamed them on too many blows to the head, between the Governor, Joe and Terminus, and he was inclined to agree. She said they were getting less intense, but knowing the way they incapacitated her, he was less inclined to agree with that.

'No,' she mumbled, closing her eyes and tilting her head back so it was cradled in his hands. 'But you don't need to stop. That feels so good.'

He smirked a little at the pleasure in her voice and continued massaging her head for a moment before letting go.

She sighed disappointedly as he stepped around the table and started picking up crumpled sheets of paper and smoothing them out one by one.

Phrases of text jumped out at him:

We the survivors

This world is what we make it

Liberty and happiness

We deserve life

We aren't just our hard lessons

'What exactly has Rick got you doing?' he asked.

Asha sighed in frustration. 'He wants words, about us, about how we live and what it means to be part of this group.' She threw her hands in the air. 'And he wants them for this big celebratory feast he's got planned for tonight.'

'Ain't goin' well?'

She snorted. 'Everything I write looks stupid, or trite. And this is important. You should have seen him Daryl, when he lumped me with this task. His eyes were alight. He wants something grand, purposeful. Something that makes a statement that we're reclaiming civilisation or humanity or…' She waved a hand vaguely. 'Something.'

Daryl grunted. 'Rick would have that kind of vision.'

Another phrase in Asha's messy handwriting caught his attention.

We do what we have to, but the things we have to do aren't all we are. They're not everything.

'Why's he got you doing it?'

'Thinks because I used to be a lawyer that i might have a way with words,' she said sourly.

Daryl chewed his lip a moment. 'Just give him this.'

'Huh?'

'All of this.' He gestured to the paper he'd been flattening. 'Ain't your job to put final words in his mouth. Give him this and he can use what he wants.'

Asha frowned at the pile of papers. 'Maybe,' she said uncertainly.

Daryl shrugged, 'It's Rick. He wants you to write something for him, but he ain't gonna say it word for word. He'll take the bits he likes but ultimately he's gonna take say what he wants to say. You've done the leg work, let him sort the rest out.'

She blinked at him a couple of times, green eyes slowly widening, and then she smiled. 'You're right.'

She rifled through the smoothed out papers, discarding the odd scrap, and then folded them neatly in half. 'I've been tearing my hair out all morning about this and you've solved my problems in about five minutes flat.'

The corner of his lip twitched. 'Well, sometimes you think too much.'

'Hey,' she protested. 'That used to be one of my strong points. Besides, I'm sure there are plenty of other people who have still got problems if you're feeling keen.'

Daryl snorted. 'They ain't my problem.'

'And I am?'

'Ever since ya followed me home from the Yellow Jacket like a stray.'

She just smiled at that, as though she enjoyed that she was, and he couldn't help smirking in response.

'Come on,' he said, looking at the sunlight streaming through the window and making the decision on the spur of the moment.

'What?'

'It's warm enough out there today for a swim.'

She'd told him once that she wanted more days by the river and he tried to oblige whenever he could. Something about being in the water seemed to fill up her soul.

It made him want to see her in the ocean.

'Might not get another chance before the cold sets in, and ya brother was right about letting ya gills dry out.'

She laughed delightedly. 'You know Rick will be pissed if we don't make it back for tonight.'

Daryl snorted derisively. 'I'll be pissed if I miss out on some of that deer.'

'You mean the deer Barry caught?' she teased, brows arched.

Barry, grey haired, stringy and missing a tooth, had shown up on the prison doorstep mid-winter with a hunting rifle over his shoulder.

At first he'd been regarded with suspicion. By his own account, teased out of him in fragments, he'd been on his own since the world had turned - although as it turned out he'd been off the grid and on his own for a long time before that too. Daryl figured he was just one of those old geezers who liked their own company. He was never really clear on why he'd approached their settlement, Daryl could only put it down to the particularly bitter winter they'd been having.

Barry's response to their three questions was pretty standard, and he had no objection to their requirement that he spend the first few weeks in the direct company of someone or locked in a cell. He'd happily spent most of the winter camped virtually on top of whichever campfire happened to be burning.

He muttered to himself, and most of the prison though he was half mad, but he was jovial enough and harmless and he more than pulled his weight.

The old man could hunt.

Daryl had almost begrudgingly realised that if he had a sixth sense for the skill himself, then Barry had a tenth. He never came back empty handed.

'Crazy bastard's just lucky he killed it nearby,' Daryl said. 'Damn thing would'ave rot if we had to wait for his old ass to drag it home.'

'So long as he keeps bringing them home, I don't care how he does it.' She made a cursory pass at tidying the table and gathered her things. Daryl could see her mind was already in the water. 'Should I try to catch some fish for tonight?'

'Nah. We got plenty of squirrels and rabbits as well.'

'Between Barry and that hunting class of yours, you're going to put yourself out of a job.'

He snorted derisively. There was always more than enough work to go around.

The hunting class was another of Rick's great ideas - "skill sharing" he called it. Daryl had, of course, been assigned to teach hunting and tracking.

He was all for the idea in theory, but in practice a bunch of novices that wanted to be experts immediately pissed him off. It was a constant struggle to find the patience for it. Theoretically Barry could have helped - he had plenty of skill to teach. But given that the old man's ordinary communication mode was an incoherent mutter, in reality he wasn't much use.

Daryl directed Asha towards the door with a firm finger in the shoulder. 'Just go give that to Rick and I'll get our gear and meet ya at the bike.'

'Whatever you say,' she smiled.

Ten minutes or so later he was on his way to where the bike was stored off to the side of the inner courtyard.

Not Merle's bike unfortunately, the prison had been picked over whilst they were away and the bike hadn't been there when they'd returned. These days they had something that had started life as a Kawasaki Ninja, and that he'd managed to scavenge enough parts to keep running.

As he cut across the courtyard he saw Asha in front of cell block B, head cocked to the side as she stared at the side of the building. He stopped next to her, looking to see what had caught her attention.

The lower part of the wall, extending as high as a ladder could reach, was covered in names, the words "in memoriam" scrawled in large letters through the middle. Merle's name was on there, and Nash and Hershel, Andrea, Lori, T-Dog, Bob and a hundred others.

Seemed every person they took in had a score of names to add.

Asha said it mattered, especially for those who didn't have a grave to visit.

There'd been nothing of Nash left when they'd come back.

Nash's name was in the corner of the wall, looped across an ocean scene Marcus had painted which somehow caught both the sense of sunlight sparkling on water and the hint of a storm on the horizon. Daryl didn't know the first thing about art, but even he had to admit it was pretty good.

It had brought tears to Asha's eyes when she'd first seen it.

The artwork was Marcus' sole contribution to the wall, and Daryl thought he was probably smart not to add the names of anyone from Terminus to it.

At that moment though, Asha wasn't looking at any name in particular, her gaze instead roaming across the wall like it was a puzzle that needed solving.

'Ya find Rick?'

'Yeah,' she said, waving behind her towards the yard without taking her eyes off the wall. 'He's down there.'

Daryl followed the line of her arm. He was still sometimes taken by surprise by the changes wrought to the prison since they had come back.

The yard was surrounded by walls. Things had been a bit tricky until the part of the fence flattened by the Governor had been patched, but once they'd managed that they had had more time for the construction of the rest.

Initially the wall had mainly consisted of trucks and vehicles, not dissimilar to Woodbury's, but they'd continued to improve it. A number of the new additions to the community had building skills, and they'd sunk steel pylons into the ground on the outer edge of the vehicle wall, and a mismatched but solid wall of various materials had been built against it. The vehicles still provided a good gang walk behind the barrier.

The damage to the prison had been repaired as far as possible. One of the watchtowers had to be abandoned, and the catwalk between cell blocks B and C was beyond repair, but most of the remaining brickwork damage had been able to be parched.

Daryl had been mildly amused to learn that humanity had been using some form of concrete or another since the Roman era - not that they'd had to resurrect building techniques quite that ancient. Some cement mixes were still salvageable from hardware stores, and building supplies in general were fairly easy to come by – they hadn't been in high demand by early survivors, and there were always plenty of abandoned buildings to scavenge from.

The prison community was one of the few groups, in the local area at least, that had a decent sized building program in place.

Most of the yard had been turned into garden. Rick was amongst the tomato bushes, trying, mostly unsuccessfully by the look of it, to have a conversation with one of the men harvesting the fruit whilst also keeping an eye on Judith toddling between the rows of plants.

Rick didn't indulge in farming himself anymore. Yet another new addition with a long farming history had been happy to take that on. Rick kept in touch though, he kept in touch with all aspects of the community. It was one of the main reasons things were running so smoothly.

The yard crops were garden crops only, they didn't have the space to grow any real high yield crops. Eugene was keen to get some sorgum planted, even if it had to happen somewhere outside the walls. Daryl could see the awkward man's mullet as he walked along the walls, checking the 'battlements' as he insisted on calling them.

There had been bad blood after Eugene's lie about being able to end the walker plague had been exposed - but in the end, Daryl wasn't unhappy that the scientist and his companions had joined the group permanently.

Abraham, with his army background, had managed to get the tank running long enough to get it moved off to the side of the internal gate with the cannon pointed back towards the main gate. The huge piece of machinery wasn't going anywhere else though. Initially that was mostly a fuel problem, but the thing had been stationary now for so long it was unlikely to ever get started again.

It still looked intimidating, even covered with children's chalk drawings.

Abraham and Rosita were both out of sight at the moment, running a hand-to-hand combat class in one of the prison's internal exercise yards – another instance of Rick's skill sharing plan in action. Eugene had contributed to the development of the wall, had a system of solar panels working, was salvaging batteries and seemed to have about 100 other plans churning around in that labyrinthine brain of his.

Eugene suddenly locked eyes on them across the yard and started purposefully in their direction.

Daryl dipped his head towards Asha.

'Eugene's seen you,' he warned.

Asha groaned. 'God, I bet he wants to talk about the new water collections system. I am so not in the mood for that right now. Why does he always have to involve me in his bloody plans?

Daryl raised his brows. 'It's what you get for being the only person who can follow what he's saying.'

'Only half the time,' she protested. 'I just have to talk to Rick again real quick okay, but I'll meet you down near the main gate?'

She darted away, waving a hand at Eugene to take the sting out her sudden departure.

Daryl shrugged apologetically at the scientist and turned for the bike.

Moments later he was waiting at the main gate, bike still running and gazing idly along the wall when there was a light touch on his arm. He turned, the almost smile freezing on his lips as he found Katarina rather than Asha.

The woman ran her free hand through her mane of dark hair, the other still resting on his arm, and smiled expectantly.

Across the yard beyond her, Asha was with Rick, arm waving as she gestured back towards the cell block and then suddenly stilling as she spied Daryl's new companion.

Daryl sighed inwardly and flicked the key to kill the engine, shifting out of Katarina's reach as he did so.

'You're heading out,' she smiled.

Daryl grunted. He tried not to make a habit of responding to statements of the obvious.

'Can I come?' Katarina's dark eyes were very wide. 'I've been taking your hunting class. You know, of course, you've seen me, but…' She gave a self-deprecating little shrug. 'I really think I'd benefit from some one on one attention.'

Daryl stared at her, wholly uncomfortable with her brazenness. Behind her Asha still stood with Rick, arms crossed and glower on her face that he could feel across the distance.

He couldn't deny that Katarina was attractive, with full lips and a curve to her hips and waist despite the restricted diet that meant most women these days were rake thin. Not that he ordinarily would have noticed, but it was hard to ignore something thrust repeatedly in his face.

Even now, Katarina was smoothing her hair again and twisting a little to the side, her raised arm highlighting the swell of her breast.

Daryl kept his eyes firmly on her face, scowling.

She had only arrived a little over a month ago, in a small group of three - an older married couple with whom she didn't seem to have any really firm bonds – and she was only recently off her probationary period which meant she didn't have to be always accompanied within the walls. Still, somehow this wasn't the first time the woman had managed to corner him alone.

He wasn't foolish enough to think there was anything genuine about her interest.

He rather wryly admitted to himself that Katarina was exactly the type of woman Joe had been talking about when he'd tried to turn him against Asha a lifetime ago - she was just trying to jump ship because something better had come along. He had seen her trying it on others, but he reluctantly realised he was her favourite target - although Glenn also copped a fair share of attention.

Oddly enough he'd never seen her try it on Rick. She'd probably taken one look at Michonne and decided that was a dumb-ass idea.

Any novelty in being pursued by an attractive woman had worn off real quick. He'd never been the target of that type of attention and had no idea how to deal with the woman's stalking when his usual anti-social demeanour and obvious living arrangements with Asha hadn't done the trick.

He glanced over Katarina's shoulder again, hoping Asha was going to stage an intervention, but although she was radiating displeasure, she showed no sign of moving.

He groaned inwardly. She would make him deal with this himself.

'Ask Barry,' he growled, reaching for the key.

Katarina's face fell, but there was something just a little calculating in her eyes. 'Well I could,' she said, ;but Barry uses a rifle and really I'm interested in learning the crossbow.' A little pleading note crept into her voice and she reached for his arm again. 'Maybe you could at least give me a one on one lesson.'

'No point,' he snapped, shrugging her off. 'We ain't got no spare bows and ya sure as shit ain't using mine.'

He wanted to be done with this, to be gone.

'Asha,' he bellowed, 'Let's go.' Then to ensure the message was clear he flicked the key in the ignition and revved the bike as it came to life.

Katarina was pouting sullenly.

'Move back,' he growled.

Katarina opened her mouth to say something but he kicked up the stand and pushed the bike back a few steps to better line it up with the gate, watching from the corner of his eye until the dark haired woman turned sulkily and walked away.

Christ he hoped that would be the end of it.

A moment later Asha swung a leg over the bike behind him, an unhappy set to her lips.

'Ya could'a helped,' he grumbled.

She snorted. 'No. I know her type. If i get involved she'll think i feel threatened, and she'll take that as a sign she's making progress.' She frowned a moment longer. 'What did she want?' she asked grudgingly.

'Private hunting lesson,' Daryl grunted, waving for the gate to be opened up.

He felt her stiffen.

'Sent her to ask Barry,' he said.

Asha gave a snort of involuntary laughter that he couldn't help but agree with. Then she giggled properly and softened against his back. 'God, it would never happen but could you just picture them traipsing around the woods together?'

His lip twitched. 'Don't go wishing that on poor Barry.'

'Hmmmm,' she hummed snaking her hands around his waist and inside his vest, pinching him under the ribs. 'Still, you ever go on any sort of private trip with her and you best not come back Daryl Dixon.'

Daryl grunted, figuring he didn't need to dignify that with an actual reply and gunned the bike through the opening gates, perhaps privately enjoying the little squawk Asha gave as she tightened her grip on him.

And then they were through the gate, the prison falling away behind them until there was just the rumble of the bike against the trees and the sky.

The prison was home, but he was glad to be out of there for a bit. There were so many people there now that sometimes he felt like he couldn't breathe.

Evening was settling as the bike rumbled down the long sweep of road towards the prison gates. The sun had just dipped beneath the horizon, one great shadow cast across the earth even though the sky was still stained with light.

Asha rode with her cheek against the wings on Daryl's back, smiling at the pink tinged sky, still wrapped in the glow of an afternoon spent bathing in a river beaten to liquid gold by a late summer sun.

She had even managed to entice Daryl into the water, by the simple expedience of shedding all of her clothes and casting her best come-hither look over her shoulder as she waded into the water.

He hadn't lingered in the water afterwards of course, more comfortable on the bank with an ear tuned to the forest around them and his crossbow in easy reach.

Asha had wallowed in the water as long as it was comfortable, but summer was definitely waning and she was shivering by the time she emerged. It was a small price to be properly clean and feel new in the way that only came from immersion in a body of moving water - and an easy one to pay when the heat of Daryl's arms was waiting for her on the bank.

She eased somewhat reluctantly away from his back as the gates rattled closed behind them, the heavy bars dropped across them to seal them for the night.

Her mouth started watering instantly at the smell of grilling meat. The courtyard was full of people milling around the grill so Daryl pulled the bike in behind the wall not far from the gate.

Michonne appeared out of the shadows almost the instant Daryl killed the engine. In her condition, she couldn't have been very far away.

'You're back,' she said relieved.

Asha swung off the back of the bike, masking with a smile the tremor of fear she felt at the sight of her friend's swollen belly and uncomfortable looking waddle.

'You should have come with us,' she said, loosening one of the saddle bags. 'A swim would have been perfect to get the weight off those legs.'

'Sounds like heaven,' Michonne smiled, patting her distended belly. 'But can you imagine what Rick would have done if i'd gone outside the walls - even with you two? He's driving me mad.'

'Forget Rick,' Asha grinned. 'I'm not game to take Carl on. He's taking protectionism to a new level.'

Michonne rolled her eyes. 'I can't wait til this baby is born so the two of them will give me some space to breathe. Speaking of which,' Michonne grimaced slightly and Asha actually saw a ripple run across the high part of her protruding belly. 'You can't be going out anymore.'

'Holy shit,' Asha gasped, grasping her friends hands. 'Are you in labour?'

Michonne laughed. 'No. It's Branxton Hicks. I had them for weeks before Andre was born, but I don't think it's going to be that long this time.'

She shifted so that she was gripping Asha's hands. 'You can't be going out. When the time comes I need you here.' Her dark eyes flicked to Daryl. 'We need you both.'

Her voice was calm, but there was an appeal in her eyes that had Asha's throat too tight to swallow.

'Of course,' she whispered hoarsely. 'Whatever you need.'

Daryl grunted. 'Just hurry up and have that niece or nephew of mine. Ya know i hate being cooped up in this place.'

Michonne nodded, her relief evident. 'Good. Come and have something to eat.'

'We'll be up in a bit,' Asha said, making sudden busy work of untying the remaining saddle bag.

Michonne's eyes narrowed a little but she nodded. 'Don't take too long, what's left of the deer is going quick.' She turned and walked slowly and a little awkwardly back to the shadows milling in the courtyard.

Asha sucked a shaky breath, tears suddenly spilling from her eyes, hands clenched in the saddle bag straps.

'Don't do that,' Daryl said quietly, resting a hand briefly against the small of her back. 'She's gonna be fine.'

'I still can't believe they're doing this.'

'They might not have planned it, but her and Rick want this baby.'

'I know, and I want to be happy for them. I will be when bub is born and healthy, and Michonne is healthy.' She swiped her hands down her cheeks, her voice shaking. 'I'm not going to be any good to her Daryl, what do i know about childbirth? Or babies? She'd be better off with Carol or someone else who's been through this - or even Beth who used to help Hershel with the bloody horses.'

Daryl shook his head. 'Carol will be there, and she ain't need you there for the medical side.'

Asha knew that.

They didn't have a doctor - Miriam was long gone, thank God in Asha's opinion. The infection in Daryl's shoulder had cleared with the IV antibiotics and Asha was eternally grateful she hadn't had to risk Miriam near him with sharp implements when he was in such a vulnerable condition. On the way back to the prison the doctor had been caught trying to steal a weapon. She'd made a run for it and Sasha had very calmly put a bullet in her back.

They were fortunate enough that one of their other new arrivals was an experienced nurse who had done a rotation in a midwifery centre early in her career - and who, along with Carol, had been sourcing and reading every medical text they could get their hands on.

'I know,' Asha whispered.

She knew why Michonne needed her there. For the same reason she would need Michonne if the circumstances were reversed - so that if something went wrong she'd have those she loved around her. And if the babe didn't survive, someone other than Rick or Michonne needed to be there to deal with that.

If Michonne didn't survive it…well, Asha doubted whether Rick would be able to put things back together after that, and that effect would cascade through the community.

'I don't know how Michonne handles it,' Asha whispered. 'I'm not even the pregnant one and i'm a wreck with worry.'

'Stop,' Daryl said firmly, taking her arm. 'Ya know she'll be fine. She had an easy time with Andre, ain't no reason for this to be different.'

'No reason for it to be the same either and don't tell me that women have been doing this for ages. Do you know what the childbirth mortality rate was in the middle ages - for mothers or babies?'

'No.'

'Me either, but i'm sure it was a fuck load higher than it was five years ago.'

Daryl's lip twitched as he shook his head. 'Ya ain't got to go looking for reasons to worry.'

'Don't make me pretend I'm not scared shitless about this around you. She doesn't need me adding to her fears, but don't make me hide it from you too.'

Daryl wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his chest. 'Be as scared as you want. Ya ain't gonna be alone.'

Asha nodded miserably against his chest. 'I don't think i could handle it if something happened to her.'

Daryl grunted. 'You could. But it won't.'

'Thanks,' she said, comforted by his certainty even if the cynical part of her brain insisted he couldn't possibly know that.

Beneath her fear for Michonne she felt the sleeping dread coiled in her belly stir.

'We have to be more careful,' she mumbled against his chest, and felt him tense immediately. 'This cannot happen to us.'

The indistinct noise in Daryl's throat was all agreement and he nodded against her head.

Within an hour the last sheen of light faded from the sky. A couple of low braziers were lit, the firelight flickering against the cell blocks dim enough to be safe within the protection of the walls. They knew there were no significant herds in the area, or one of their outposts would have sent word.

The prison community was milling in the courtyard with the self satisfied satiation of having consumed a good meal.

The array of food had triggered an almost festive atmosphere, and the spit had been licked clean and every last morsel of meat, vegetable and bread devoured. The muted sounds of relaxed conversation reflected off the walls and somewhere in the crowd someone was playing a guitar - probably a middle aged guy called Henry, originally from Alabama who had a penchant for country music. The sounds mingled with the smell of woodsmoke lingering in the still evening air. A handful of children skittered and tumbled through the throng, playing some form of chase.

Except for the unlucky persons who'd drawn the short straw for guard duty, everyone was there.

Asha leant against a wall at a the rear of the crowd, remembering another time she'd surveyed the prison inhabitants whilst eating barbequed deer, wondering how their numbers had grown so large. This time though, she knew the names at least of everyone. She'd advocated for letting people in, and although she knew it was the right call it was still a risk - so she made it her business to know at least some of the story of everyone.

They still asked their three questions, and imposed a number of restrictions on newcomers - but Asha knew their best defence was Carol. The older woman was entirely disarming when playing her good little housewife role and was able to sniff out all sorts of information and uncover the reality behind the versions of themselves that people presented to Rick and the Council.

Only a handful of people had been turned away, two of which had been deemed such a risk that the Council had reached the reluctant decision to have Marcus and his sniper rifle deal with them before they were out of sight of the prison. Most people, whatever their history, had seized the chance to carve out a new life under the Rick and the Council's rule.

Rick drifted through the mass of people, sharing a few words here and there without really lingering with any one clutch of people. Michonne and Carl sat with Carol at one of the picnic tables near the cell blocks, the silvery haired woman smiling as she rested her hand on Michonne's belly, no doubt feeling the newest Grimes kicking away.

Further along the table Beth chatted with Maggie who was nestled under Glenn's arm.

The young woman was fairly well recovered from her ordeal at Terminus. She still sometimes woke the entire cell block screaming in terror and was never comfortable being left alone, but in the light of day, on most days at least, she seemed almost her old self. Well...she was certainly more reticent around the new arrivals than Asha would otherwise have expected, but she supposed Beth was about as recovered as she was going to get.

As Asha watched, the young blonde slid off the table, lifting a plate of food next to her that she'd been saving. Maggie stiffened and even across the distance Asha saw Glenn's eyes harden.

Marcus had slunk out of cell block C and remained pressed in the shadows.

Asha wasn't sure if his wariness was a natural aversion to crowds or something more. Asha had never regretted her decision to spare Marcus' life, and had been downright grateful for his presence on a number of occasions. Plus it had only taken a few weeks for Asha to recall that she liked Marcus, for all his reticent little quirks.

But she was one of the few who did.

His past cannibalism was an open secret, and he hadn't integrated terribly well with the community. His social skills had never been great and Rick's attempts to get him to run sniper training classes with Sasha had been an abject failure. He was wholly incapable of disseminating his process to a group of people, and Asha suspected that he probably didn't really understand himself what he did when he was behind a rifle.

Nevertheless, he was invariably quiet and calm and obeyed every directive of the Council to the letter. Asha was rather inclined to think that the certainty and structure of a clear directive gave him a certain amount of comfort. He had never given anyone harbouring resentment the slightest excuse to do anything about it, but Asha was painfully aware that the looks shot in Marcus' direction as he lurked in the cell block shadows were neutral at best and outright hostile in several cases.

Beth was far too intelligent to be ignorant of the looks, but she simply shook her head at her sister, ignored the others, and crossed over to Marcus, pushing the plate into his hands. Then she sat down on against the wall, patting the ground beside her and Marcus reluctantly folded his wiry frame down next to her. He pushed his thin framed glasses up his nose and started eating whilst Beth chatted away next to him.

Asha found she was shaking her head wryly. It was definitely one of the stranger relationships that had sprung up in the community, but Beth had never seen Marcus as one of her captors, and she felt a certain shared affinity for the forced cannibal and notable outcast.

Asha knew part of Maggie and Glenn's fear was that Marcus would abuse the friendship Beth offered so willingly.

It wasn't a fear Asha shared - and it wasn't because Marcus knew that if he so much as breathed the wrong way around Beth there would be a line of people waiting to hurt him (although there certainly would be and he certainly knew it).

Even when Asha had known Marcus at Terminus he'd never shown the slightest romantic interest in anyone, but Asha's instinct was that if push came to shove, Beth probably wasn't on the team Marcus was interested in.

It was absolutely not the type of interest Beth had in Marcus anyway.

There was a little tug of pride as she let her eyes drift back across the group. It was good, what they'd built, better than it had been before - or maybe it was just that Asha felt a degree of ownership this time that had been missing for her first time round.

Whatever it was, Asha felt a tug at the Nash shaped ache in her soul. This he would have been proud of. Hershel too, and it was impossible not to miss them on occasions like this.

Merle too of course, though he probably would have been more bemused than proud about the whole arrangement.

Daryl had disappeared as soon as they had eaten, muttering something about needing to check on something before melting away into the prison, so Asha was pleasantly surprised when she turned at a light touch to find him standing by her elbow.

She was even more pleasantly surprised when he pressed a hip flask into her hand.

She arched her brows.

Alcohol was in scant supply these days. Most of the beer and wine they scavenged was well past its best - it being rare to find the latter properly cellared. Spirits had a longer shelf life of course, but they were hard to come by.

She took a discreet sip, expecting bourbon or whisky and nearly spluttering all over the place when she got a mouthful of moonshine.

'Rick's got me making it,' Daryl said, plucking the flask and lifting it himself. 'Got medicinal use and ya know we're running low on that stuff all the time.'

'Not complaining,' Asha said, easing the flask back to her lips with Daryl's hand still around it and taking another sip she was better prepared for. 'Where's the still?'

'Hidden,' Daryl grunted. 'Rick ain't want anyone to know.'

Asha rolled her eyes, but had to admit that was probably for the best. 'Rick know about this little bit of recreational use?' she asked, jiggling the flask a little.

Daryl made a non committal sound that Asha took as a denial. 'Come on,' he said pocketing the liquor. 'He's starting.'

Near the cell walls, Rick had climbed on to a wooden picnic table and was looking out over the crowd. Michonne and Carl sat nearby at another table facing towards him. He didn't call for quiet, but as people noticed he was standing there a hush naturally fell over the crowd.

'Today is our remembrance day,' he said quietly, voice carrying in the still air. 'Twelve months ago, more or less, we were chased out of here, bloody and hurting. We lost so much. We thought we'd lost everything. And whilst we were out there,' he gestured beyond the walls, 'we saw and we did things that no one should have to. But we reached the point where we had a choice - to keep going, to accept that we'd lost, or to come back and rebuild. It hasn't been easy. But it was a choice of becoming brittle or becoming tough. We became tough.'

He paused a moment, face shining in the firelight. 'Only a dozen of us came back. We wanted a home, but we had to work for it. We built walls where there were fences, we patched the cell walls, we planted crops. We figured out the rules we can live by. And although it scared the crap out of us, we sought out new people, because someone once told me that people are our greatest asset, and she was right.'

Asha blushed in the darkness, linking her arm through Daryl's.

Rick spread his arms wide to the crowd. 'If you can live by our rules, you are welcome here. We've grown, we've helped each other. We've scouted this area and brought people in, we've built outposts. We've taken our skills, all of them together, and built a community.' His voice lifted as he continued. 'We proved that the way to do things is together, and we ain't going nowhere.'

There were a couple of muted whoops and hollers. The crowd was to indoctrinated to the risks of this new world to make too much noise, but the appreciation and backing for Rick's words was no less genuine for that.

'So tonight, we remember,' Rick went on somberly. 'We remember what we've done, and who we've lost. But also we remember what we are capable of. We've all experienced more than we ever thought we'd be able to survive, but we have survived, and that is something to be proud of. This life is hard and brutal, there's no denying it, but that ain't all it is. It is beautiful and it is sacred and it is ours. Sometimes we may feel like we're starving between tastes of the good life, so tonight is about filling up on the good. This is how we do more than just survive. This is how we live. This is how we make the things we do worth it.'

The whoops and calls were a little less muted this time. Asha glanced around and saw more than one approving nod and appreciative grin.

Rick gestured to his right, to the memorial words on cell block B shimmering behind him in the firelight. Asha suddenly realised the picnic table he stood on was placed squarely between cell blocks B and C.

'These are the people whose blood and sacrifice and stories have led to who we are today,' Rick said solemnly. 'We know this. We know our past. But what about our future? For too long we've been scared. Too scared to look beyond surviving today, maybe tomorrow.'

He shook his head as he spoke. 'Next month? Next year? Forget it. Making those sort of plans was just asking fate to strike us down.'

He looked down at Michonne, a smile breaking like dawn across his face. 'Not any more. We have a future. We're building it. We're birthing it. I won't be scared of that anymore.'

He lifted his face to the people massed in front of him, radiating something Asha hadn't seen in so long it was almost unrecognisable - pure joy. 'And i'm asking you all to not be scared either.'

Asha's heart fluttered a little in her chest. Not to be scared, now that was some type of new dream.

Rick lifted a hand to the blank cell block C wall to his left. Carl had gotten up and he peeled back a couple of ragged cloths at the base of the wall, uncovering paint tins and brushes.

'We can write our own future,' Rick said, voice rising as he spoke. 'Take up a paint brush. I want to know what you believe in. What you hope for. What you live for. I want to know what binds us together.' Rick's voice was a roar as he finished. 'I want to see it written ten feet tall across that wall.'

The crowd roared back, their ordinary caution lost on the wave of Rick's words. Asha realised she was standing on her toes, hand tightened around Daryl's arm, buoyed by the group's electricity.

Rick waved the mass down quickly.

'We own our dead,' he said seriously. 'We own our past. Now let's own our future.'

He jumped down amid the excited muttering, taking up a brush and tin from Carl and heading over to the wall. The throng closed in around him, eager to see what he'd write. Asha lingered at the back, content to let them pass, pleased they were so readily taking to the idea.

In the corner of her vision, Daryl took a slug from the flask and then slipped it into her hand as people continued to push past.

'Come on,' he said. 'Let's go see Merle.'

Later, a lot later actually, when the roar of the crown had long since dropped to a murmur and even that had faded entirely away, Asha and Daryl ventured up from Merle's grave.

Asha wobbled, the edges of the prison not quite straight as they tripped across the yard.

She was most of the way drunk, and she giggled as Daryl stumbled slightly betraying that he was a little impaired himself. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but not unwelcome as far as Asha was concerned.

It was a long way beyond rare for Daryl to allow himself to get in that condition, but Michonne's restrictions on their movements meant tomorrow was that rarest of things - a day off.

Provided of course that she didn't go into labour.

Asha swallowed hard at the thought.

They paused in front of cell block C, weaving a little as they looked up at the wet paint still gleaming in the glow of the coals remaining in the braziers. They weren't quite ten feet tall, but branded across the middle were some of the words she'd given Rick:

We deserve life. We will fight to protect it and we will honour it by living it

Smaller words surrounded it, in as many different styles as terms, and individual words and phrases leapt out at her:

Loyalty

Safety

Freedom

We make our own path

The world will recover

They stood in silence a moment, faces lifted to the wall, taking it in.

'This was your idea wasn't it?' Daryl muttered.

She shrugged, swaying slightly. 'Actually, it was kind of yours.'

'Huh?'

'You were right about it not being my job to put words in Rick's mouth. It shouldn't have been just my words, or Rick's words, it should be everyone's. And when i saw the memorial wall when we were heading out earlier, the idea just sort of clicked.'

She bent a little unsteadily to fish a brush out of a paint tin. She hesitated, then dipped the brush in the paint and brushed out the words.

Not overly large, but not particularly discrete either.

Daryl Dixon

He frowned at them over her shoulder, from where he'd shifted in behind her as she painted.

'What's that mean?'

She tilted her head. The words looked good on the wall to her.

'Rick said to write what we believe in,' she said softly. 'You haven't steered me wrong yet Dixon, so I'm just gonna keep on believing in you.'

He was frowning when she glanced back at him.

'Ya ain't been following me for a long time girl. Or any one.' He waved a hand. 'You're the reason we're all back here.'

She frowned herself, trying to explain. 'I guess. I mean i know I don't need you to make decisions for me-'

Daryl snorted derisively.

'But you were there when I was lost. Somehow I make better decisions when you're around.' She groped for the words and felt a tug on her well worn grief. 'You're my north star,' she offered quietly.

She dropped the paintbrush in the tin at her feet and turned around to look at him. He was chewing his bottom lip but there was a familiar fire in his eyes. It was so stupid that she'd been tiptoeing around saying three very specific little words to him for so long. If he wasn't able to handle it after the year they'd spent together, then he never would be.

'I love you,' she said quietly. 'But don't take that to mean that i need any more from you than i already get. I just need you to be here and to keep looking at me like you are now.' Then she shook her head wryly. 'And if any of that comes as a surprise to you after the last twelve months than we have seriously got a problem.'

Fuck it, let him do with that what he will.

But she held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

He stared at her silently for a long moment, his expression unreadable, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth. Then the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. 'Starting to think you'd changed ya mind.'

Her brow creased in slightly drunken bafflement, and the small lift to his mouth became a proper smirk as he watched her.

'It's been what, a year right, since you were talking to Carol that night outside Terminus?'

Realisation slowly dawned.

'You've known all this time?' Her jaw dropped, and then she was suddenly indignant. 'And you didn't say anything?'

'Wasn't sure what to think about it at first,' he admitted, raking a hand through his hair. 'Actually, i wasn't even sure it wasn't just a fever dream to start with. And then ya never said nothing, so I still wasn't sure what to think about it. Maybe ya did change your mind? But then, ya never went away either.'

She was gaping at him, wide eyed. 'You what? You idiot. I was too busy tearing my hair out worrying about freaking your shit out and you knew all along?' She pounded on his chest. 'I am so fucking mad at you.'

His arms snaked around her, tightening, pulling her in close and he locked his lips over hers.

For an instant she kept trying to yell at him, but then gave that up and succumbed to his kiss, flooded for a moment with relief that he knew and somehow hadn't bolted for the hills. Eventually they came up for air, Asha resting heavily against him with her head on his chest, watching him as he looked up at the words on the wall over her shoulder.

'I wouldn't change it,' he said, voice all gravel and comfort.

'What? Change what?' She was still a little bleary in the aftermath of the kiss.

'What happened to the world. Any of it. If it meant I didn't end up here with you, I wouldn't change it, even if I could.'

She leant back, wide eyed for a moment, taking in the enormity of the statement as Daryl avoided her eyes and kept his attention on the wall.

Then she smiled, looping her arms around his neck and locking her hands together. She put her face up against his and murmured happily in his ear.

'See? You love me too.'

'Hmmmm.'

It definitely wasn't a denial.

[A/N: Well that took a hell of a lot longer than expected! I cannot believe i started this story in 2014.

It feels good to mark it complete, but it's a little bittersweet too. Sometimes the words for this story flowed like magic, other times I had to drag them from the mud - and i'm not gonna lie, sometimes I got lost in the swamp of writing this thing. I cannot thank you enough for hanging in there readers, and reviewers, you don't know how much your comments mean. I devoured each of them like a starving person.

Speaking of which, I would love love love to hear something you liked and/or something you didn't like - whether that be a particular chapter, scene, character, conversation - whatever! There's a lot i like about this story (there'd be something pretty wrong if I didn't). But i'm particularly pleased with how Seth turned out. I wanted to write someone who was different to anyone we'd seen one the show and I think I did that. I'm also pretty pleased with any scene with Asha and Daryl by a river. Right at the top of the list of things i don't like is the truly appalling writing in some spots (sorry about that), but i also felt like the whole section with the Claimers was a bit weak.

Did I mention I would love to hear what you think?

Thanks for sharing this ride with me people!]