Unbreakable threads

Chapter Fourty: All thats Left.

Daryl gripped the handlebars tightly as he guided the motorcycle back toward the highway, where they'd last been before Sophia disappeared. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, a place that held both painful memories and a strange sense of familiarity. With the rest of the group scattered, the highway was the only place he could think to go. Maybe, just maybe, the others had the same thought and would gather there.

The cool night air whipped against them as they sped down the deserted road, the darkness around them occasionally punctuated by the dim glow of stars above. Alyssa sat in front of him, her body tense, but he could feel her gradually relaxing under his protective hold. Behind him, Carol clung to his back, her hands gripping his jacket tightly, her head resting against his shoulder. Daryl felt the weight of both women, the two people he'd come to care about more than he'd ever thought possible.

The road stretched ahead, and with each mile, his mind kept drifting back to the argument he'd had with Alyssa. The harsh words he'd thrown at her, the anger and bitterness he'd allowed to spill over, gnawed at him, even as he rode in silence. He'd pushed her away, wounded her with words he hadn't meant, all because he'd been scared. Scared of letting someone in, scared of caring. And now here she was, still with him, clinging to him in the dark as they sped away from the chaos of the farm.

His chest tightened with a strange mix of regret and relief. He hadn't deserved this second chance, but here they were, riding together in the night, escaping the horrors behind them. He wanted to say something, to apologize, to tell her that he didn't mean the things he'd said. But the words stuck in his throat, heavy and unspoken, as he focused on keeping them safe.

As they approached the highway, Daryl's eyes scanned the road, searching for any sign of the group. He didn't know what he'd find, but with Alyssa and Carol by his side, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. They were his family now, his responsibility. And he'd do whatever it took to protect them, no matter what lay ahead.

Daryl was the first to pull up on the deserted stretch of highway, the familiar, eerie quiet settling around them as he cut the ignition. The hum of the motorcycle died, leaving them in silence under the vast, starlit sky. He felt Carol's grip on his back loosen as she released a long-held breath, a small sign of relief washing over her now that they'd stopped. But as he looked down, he realized his own arms were still tightly wrapped around Alyssa, holding her a little too close, a little too protectively.

He hesitated, reluctant to let go, the weight of their earlier argument still pressing down on him. But finally, he loosened his hold, allowing Alyssa to shift forward slightly. She glanced back at him, her expression unreadable, but he could feel the lingering tension between them, the words left unspoken hanging heavy in the air.

Before he could say anything, the distant roar of an approaching truck broke the silence. He turned, his gaze sharpening as he recognized the familiar vehicle coming up the road. It was Hershel's truck, and as it pulled up, Daryl could see the faces of Rick, Hershel, and Carl inside. Relief washed over him, tempered by a quiet satisfaction that he'd been the first to make it back with Carol and Alyssa safely by his side.

The truck came to a screeching halt, and before the dust had even settled, Rick leapt out, his face etched with a mixture of relief and guilt as he sprinted toward Alyssa. His eyes were wide, his breaths ragged as he reached her, the weight of having left her behind—especially after what they'd just been through—heavy on his face.

As Alyssa slid off Daryl's bike, she hesitated for only a moment before running toward Rick and, to everyone's surprise, leaping into his arms. Rick's arms wrapped around her instinctively, holding her tightly, relief flooding his face as he clutched his daughter close. It was a gesture that caught Daryl off guard, his usual tough expression faltering as he took in the scene before him.