I woke up to movement—not sudden, not panicked.
Slow.
Maggie shifted beside me, sheets rustling softly as she stretched.
Morning light had just started to creep through the thin curtains, pale and weak.
I blinked once, clearing the last fog of sleep.
Maggie caught me awake.
"Morning," she murmured, voice still rough.
I rubbed a hand over my face, then pushed myself up on one elbow. "Morning."
"I'm surprised you didn't wake up first," she said.
"Guess you were more tired than you thought."
"Yeah," I said, pressing the bridge of my nose.
She studied me for a second, then nudged my shoulder with her head.
"You're already thinking about work, aren't you?" she asked in exasperation.
I didn't answer; I didn't have to.
Her mouth twitched, sighing. "Yeah," she said. "Thought so."
She rolled out of bed first, grabbing a towel off the chair near the wall.
"C'mon," she added over her shoulder. "Before the hot water disappears."
The bathroom filled with steam first.
Water drummed steadily against tile.
The small space warmed quietly, fog creeping across the mirror.
Maggie stepped under the spray and tilted her head back with a quiet, content sigh.
I followed a second later, reaching past her for the soap.
For a minute, neither of us spoke—just the sound of water hitting the tile below.
Then Maggie bumped her hip into mine on purpose.
I glanced down.
She didn't look at me right away, just reached for the shampoo and pressed it into my hand with a small, knowing look.
"You're doing it again," she said dryly.
"What thing?"
"Planning stuff ahead. Overthinking while you're supposed to enjoy the moment," she said, rolling her eyes.
I huffed quietly but didn't deny it.
Her fingers traced lightly along my arm as she stepped closer.
Her voice dripped a notch.
"So," she said. "Where you running off today?"
I rinsed the soap off my hands before answering. "Supply sweep," I said. "Solo."
Maggie's eyes flicked up sharply, but she didn't argue.
She didn't push, just gave a slow nod and leaned her head briefly on my shoulder. "Just come back safely," she said quietly.
I lifted her chin.
"You know I always will," I said, before I leaned in for a kiss.
As we parted, she held my eyes another second… then reached past me to shut off the water.
Conversation over for now.
Breakfast smelled like eggs and reheated bread.
Carol was already moving between the counter and the stove.
Beth stood nearby drying the plates.
Hershel sat at the table with his coffee, posture calm but watchful like always.
I ate quick and efficient.
Maggie lingered longer, trading a few words with Beth that made her sister grin and bump her shoulders lightly.
These normal moments—small ones—reminded us that we're still living, still human.
I stepped outside once I finished, the door snapping softly behind me.
The morning air was cool and damp. It was late October, and it was starting to become a bit chilly in the early mornings and in the evenings.
Across the yard, the Dixon brothers were already gearing up near the tree line.
Daryl stood with his back half-turned, checking the tension on his crossbow string with practiced fingers.
Merle was cleaning his rifle and occasionally crudely teasing his brother, who was clearly ignoring him.
A few yards off, Glenn had the trunk of one of the vehicles that were brought from the Greene farm open, carefully packing supplies into a neat row.
A folded map sat on the hood, weighted down with a wrench.
Everyone was moving.
I stepped off the porch.
Merle spotted me first.
"Well damn," Merle drawled, spitting a mouthful of chewed tobacco on the ground. "Look who finally decided to crawl out."
Daryl didn't look up, but one corner of his mouth twitched.
I ignored it.
"You two heading into the woods?"
Daryl gave a short nod. "Meat's getting a little low, so we're checkin' the traps we set. See what's still movin' out there."
Merle added, linking his arm around Daryl's neck much to the latter's chagrin, "And brotherly bondin' at the same time."
My attention shifted to Glenn.
"Rail yards?" I asked.
Glenn straightened quickly, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Yeah, like we planned last night."
I gave one firm nod. "Stay mobile. If you see things going awry, you pull back."
"Got it."
I adjusted the strap of my pack, checking the weight by feel. Then—"I'm running solo today again," I said plainly.
That got their attention.
"Usual sweep patterns," I continued.
"In and out. I'll ground overnight if I have to."
Daryl studied me for a long second… then gave a small grunt. "Watch yourself."
Merle smirked. "Don't die out there, Boy Scout."
My mouth moved enough just to count as a smirk. "No promises."
I climbed into the box truck and pulled the door shut with a solid thump. I set my pack on the passenger seat before I reached forward and turned the key.
The engine coughed once, then caught. The truck settled, idling beneath my boots.
I rested one hand on the wheel, letting the truck warm the way I always did.
I adjusted the mirror slightly.
Movement on the porch caught my eye.
Maggie.
She stepped out, one hand pushing the screen door closed behind her.
She didn't hurry, just crossed the yard at an easy pace, morning breeze tugging lightly at the loose strands of her hair.
I cracked the driver's window before she even reached the truck.
Maggie stopped beside the door and rested her forearm on the edge of the window frame, looking at me.
"You really do love your solo runs, huh?" she said—not accusing, just stating.
"It helps clear my mind," I replied.
Her eyes searched my face for a second, then she gave a small nod. "Alright."
She leaned through the open window.
I met her halfway.
The kiss was brief but firm.
Maggie's hand slipped to the back of my neck before she pulled away.
"Don't get clever out there," she murmured.
My thumb brushed once against her wrist where it still rested on the door.
"I won't."
She held my gaze another beat… then stepped back from the truck, giving the door two light taps with her knuckles.
"Bring something useful back," she added, a hint of a smile breaking through.
I shifted the truck into gear. "I always do."
The engine growled a little as I eased off the clutch.
Maggie stepped aside, arms folding as she watched me roll past the porch and down the dirt drive.
The box truck rolled away, leaving behind clouds of dust.
(To be continued...)