twd: the last silence

Chapter 112 – The Quiet Before the Storm

The hallway of Alexandria's infirmary was silent. The only sound was the slow hum of the old generator and the quiet shuffle of Axel's boots on the floor. The others had stayed behind in the meeting room, giving him space.

He needed it.

He had just seen her this morning.

She was smiling.

Laughing, even.

She hugged him and told him she was glad he was back — that things finally felt normal again.

She didn't say anything about pain.

She didn't say anything about fear.

She didn't say a damn word about what really happened.

Now, standing in the quiet of her room, Axel felt something deep in his chest crack.

Maggie lay there, her body still under the thin white sheet. Pale. Weak. Her breaths were shallow, her lips dry. Sweat clung to her skin like a fever was trying to drag her down.

She looked so small.

So fragile.

Axel didn't speak.

He just stepped forward and sat down slowly beside her bed.

He leaned in and looked at her closely. His eyes scanned the bruises around her collarbone, the faint line on her cheek, the cuts across her arms that had been cleaned and wrapped but were still raw beneath the bandages.

She didn't even stir.

Axel sighed.

He reached out and put his hand gently on her forehead. His touch was soft. Careful.

He didn't wake her.

Didn't say her name.

He just sat there.

Watching.

Protecting.

Something inside him burned. Not the fire of rage—he already felt that—but something colder. Something older. Something buried under years of loss, betrayal, and blood.

They hurt her.

Of all people.

The one who gave him peace when his hands were stained red.

The one who smiled at him when everyone else saw a monster.

She hid this from him.

And he knew why.

Because she knew what he would do.

What he had to do.

Axel leaned back in the chair but never let go of her hand.

He looked at her sleeping face.

And he whispered, almost like he was talking to the past itself.

"I came back for you, Maggie girl. Just like I said I would. You didn't have to face this alone."

He closed his eyes for a moment.

A memory flashed — the first time she scolded him for teasing too much. The first time she laughed when he called her Maggie girl. The first time she looked at him with something more than annoyance. With something close to affection.

He opened his eyes again.

"I should've been here," he muttered.

His voice didn't crack.

His anger didn't spill over.

But the guilt sat heavy in his gut like lead.

"You kept this from me because you knew I'd go crazy. Because you knew I'd lose control. But I ain't crazy now. I ain't out of control."

He looked at her again.

"I'm focused. And whoever did this, whoever made you look like this—they're not walking away from it."

The wind shifted outside the infirmary window. The night air blew faintly in, rustling the edge of the curtain. The sky was starting to fade from orange to a deeper blue.

Another day had ended.

And a new kind of war was coming.

Axel stood slowly.

He didn't want to leave her side.

But he had to.

He looked at her one last time before turning toward the door.

But then—

"Mmm…"

It was faint.

Barely a whisper.

But it stopped him dead in his tracks.

He turned.

Maggie stirred slightly, her brow furrowing. Her eyes didn't open. But her fingers curled weakly around the sheets.

He stepped back to her side, quickly.

Her lips parted.

And then she said it.

"…Axel…?"

He dropped to one knee beside her, grabbing her hand gently.

"I'm here," he whispered. "Right here, Maggie girl."

Her lips tugged into a tired smile.

"You always… show up… when I look like hell."

He smiled softly.

"Still prettier than me on a good day."

She coughed a weak laugh.

Then winced.

Axel's face turned serious. "Don't push yourself."

Maggie blinked slowly. Her eyes focused on him through the haze of pain and medicine.

"I didn't want to tell you," she admitted. "Didn't want you to go off again. You just got back."

"You should've told me."

"I was scared," she whispered. "Not of them. Of you."

He didn't flinch.

Because he understood.

"I'm not gonna burn the world down, Maggie."

She gave him a knowing look.

"You've done it before."

Axel looked down.

Then he nodded. "Yeah. I have."

He stood again, brushing the hair from her forehead with surprising gentleness.

"But this time I'll just cut the rot out. Fast. Clean. And I'll come back to you."

Maggie closed her eyes.

And whispered something he almost didn't hear.

"Promise?"

Axel stared at her for a long second.

Then he bent down and kissed her forehead, softly.

"I promise, Maggie girl."

She drifted back to sleep.

And Axel turned toward the door, his hand already resting on the hilt of his katana.

The calm was over.

Now came the storm.

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