Unbreakable threads

Chapter one hundred and Eleven: Daryl pushes Alyssa away.

Alyssa stared at Morgan, her mind racing as she tried to piece together the fragmented memories. Hearing Rick say his name made everything click into place.

"Morgan?" Alyssa said softly, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and recognition.

Morgan nodded, his eyes filled with a sadness and warmth that spoke volumes.

"Duane?" Alyssa asked gently, her voice faltering slightly.

Morgan shook his head, the pain of the loss still visible in his expression. Alyssa's face softened, understanding the unspoken weight of his answer.

Before she could say anything more, Morgan suddenly closed the distance between them, pulling her into an unexpected hug. The gesture surprised her, but there was something deeply comforting in it.

"You survived," Morgan said, his voice filled with quiet emotion. "You made it. You and your dad. You made it. Just like I knew you would." His arms squeezed her tightly, as if confirming to himself that she was really there.

Alyssa, caught off guard, awkwardly patted his back in response, her usual tough demeanor momentarily softened by the warmth of the moment.

Morgan stepped back, his eyes studying her face with a mixture of pride and sadness. He took in her black eye, her swollen lip, the bandages on her hands, and the blood smeared on her arms. His expression grew heavier as he realized how much had changed.

"You're not a girl anymore..." Morgan said softly, his voice almost breaking, the reality of how much time had passed hitting him hard.

Rick stepped forward then, his expression shifting to one of deep emotion as he reached out to Morgan. He pulled him into a firm hug, the weight of their shared past evident in the gesture.

"The radios stopped working, Morgan," Rick said, his voice rough with regret. "I tried. We tried..."

Morgan nodded slightly, his eyes glancing between Rick and Alyssa, his face reflecting the years of searching and the relief of finally finding them. The reunion was bittersweet, filled with the weight of everything they had lost and everything they had endured.

Deanna knelt by Reg's lifeless body, still sniffling and visibly shaken. Abraham stepped forward, his movements deliberate and respectful, gently helping her lift Reg's body. Without a word, he began guiding her away, ready to help prepare him for burial. The Alexandrians who remained by the fire watched in stunned silence, their emotions a mix of shock, fear, and uncertainty.

Aaron and Daryl stood back, slightly removed from the center of the scene, observing as Morgan reunited with Rick and Alyssa. Daryl's eyes lingered on Alyssa, his face tense as he took in her appearance—her black eye, swollen lip, bandaged hands, and bloodied arms. She looked like she had been through hell in his absence, and it stirred something protective deep within him.

But Daryl didn't move forward. He didn't rush in to ask what had happened or to check if she was okay. Their last words before he left still weighed heavily on his mind, a sharp reminder of the argument they'd had. He had snapped at her, and she had been left confused and hurt. He could still see the way she had looked at him, trying to understand why he had lashed out.

Now, as he stood there, he knew he couldn't just jump in, not without making things worse. He had to give her space, even though every instinct told him to go to her. For now, all he could do was watch and wait, hoping that when the time came, he could find the right words to mend the rift between them.

As the Alexandrians slowly dispersed, the weight of the night hung heavy in the air. Jessie walked away holding her sons, Ron and Sam, close to her. Despite Pete's cruelty and the terror he had inflicted, he had still been their father, and his loss, no matter how justified, left a hollow ache.