Unbreakable threads

Chapter Nintey Five : First Night In alexandria.

Meanwhile, across the town, Deanna sat across from Daryl in the same neat, formal room where she had already spoken to Rick and Alyssa. Daryl didn't sit, though. He moved slowly around the room, his boots scuffing softly against the floor. The possum slung over his shoulder made for an unusual sight in the otherwise pristine space.

Deanna's sharp eyes followed him as he paced. "Do you actually want to be here, Daryl?" she asked, her voice calm but probing.

Daryl didn't stop moving, his gaze fixed on nothing in particular. "The baby needs to stay here. Carl, too," he said gruffly, as though the answer should be obvious.

Deanna waited for him to say more, and after a moment, he added quietly, "And my girl."

Deanna frowned, tilting her head slightly. "Your girl?" she repeated, her tone curious but cautious.

"Yeah. Lyss," Daryl said bluntly, his tone carrying no hesitation.

Deanna frowned again, now visibly intrigued. "Rick's daughter?" she asked, trying to piece it together.

Daryl shifted uncomfortably, his fingers flexing slightly around the strap of his crossbow. "Yeah," he replied, his voice a little more defensive this time. "We stick to each other. Always have."

Deanna didn't say anything for a moment, studying him closely. "You're close," she stated, though there was a hint of a question in her tone.

Daryl stopped pacing for a moment, his jaw tightening slightly. "Yeah, we're close," he said. "She gets me, and I get her. Don't mean nothin' weird. We just... we're the same."

Deanna nodded thoughtfully, her mind already recalling the way Alyssa had stepped in at the armory to ensure Daryl kept his crossbow. "She made sure you kept your weapon," she noted, her tone more observational than accusatory.

Daryl shrugged, glancing at the crossbow slung over his shoulder. "'Course she did," he muttered. "She knows what I'm worth out there. Same way I know what she's worth."

Deanna leaned back slightly, nodding again as she took in his words. "She's strong," Deanna said carefully. "I saw that in her. And in you."

Daryl didn't respond, his gaze briefly shifting to the window. The compliment wasn't something he'd argue with, but he wasn't about to dwell on it, either.

Deanna pressed a little further. "You're here for her, then? For the baby? For Carl? Not for yourself?"

Daryl nodded, his expression firm. "Ain't about me," he said simply. "It's about them. If this place is good for them, then I'll make it work. If it ain't, then we'll deal with that too."

Deanna watched him for another moment before nodding, a faint smile crossing her lips. She didn't press him further, but it was clear to her now: Daryl wasn't just a survivor—he was a protector. And Alyssa, in particular, was someone he'd do anything for.

Alyssa stood on the porch, leaning against the railing as Carol approached. "I don't like how they've got us separate," Carol said, her voice carrying a hint of annoyance. "Even if we are next door."

Alyssa shrugged, her tone casual. "We can all stay in one house tonight," she suggested.

Carol nodded in agreement, already turning to go gather the others. But Alyssa called after her, her voice sharper now. "Where's Daryl?"

Carol stopped and looked back. "He's with Deanna," she replied. "She's interviewing him."

Alyssa nodded thoughtfully, pushing herself off the railing. Without another word, she jumped down from the porch and started walking into the street, her boots crunching softly against the gravel path. It didn't take her long to spot him. Daryl was just stepping out of Deanna's house, the ever-present possum still slung over his shoulder, his crossbow strapped across his back.