#dad!daryl

“Daryl,” Carol started, crossing her arms as she descended down the steps. She turned around to face Daryl, her voice stern. “It would do you good to socialize a bit.”

“I talked to Tobin when we finished up with the construction of the new walls yesterday,” Daryl replied nonchalantly, keeping his eyes focused on his crossbow instead of the stern woman in front of him.

“That doesn’t count. That’s work talk. I'm talking about actual socialising. Like, striking up a conversation with someone that isn’t in our group or someone you have to talk to for work.”

“I dun’ need to. Y’all are the only company I need. Ain’t gon’ waste my time tryna make buddies with people who dun’ even like me,” Daryl responded with a sense of finality, gripping his crossbow and getting up. “Now get off my back, woman.”

“Where are you going?” Carol called after him, watching the archer walk away from the house.

“Somewhere,” he replied shortly, ending the conversation effectively.

Slightly irritated, Daryl walked with no particular destination in mind. He passed by some people who sent him friendly greetings and small waves, which he returned half-heartedly. After a while of mindlessly walking about, Daryl stopped in front of a makeshift park of sorts. It was a small area surrounded by grass and had a big tree towards the edge. He moved to sit on the grass underneath the shade of the tree. The few kids in the community loved to play in this area, but it was deserted for now; the perfect place for the archer to relax for a while.

Daryl went about sharpening his knife for a while. The mediocre task kept his mind busy, busy enough to ignore the parents and kids who arrived, busy enough to ignore the wary stares the parents threw his way. Daryl simply shook his head—even after two months, there were still people who were wary of him and the rest of his group. Even after everything they did and sacrificed to ensure the community's safety.

“Mistah lonely?”

Startled, Daryl’s head shot up and his eyes locked with those of a little girl who looked no older than three years old. The girl looked at him with curiosity written all over her young face, eyeing the knife in the archer’s hands with wonder. She tentatively reached forward to touch the knife, her fingertips close to making contact with the cold metal of the dangerous weapon.

Daryl jerked the knife away and out of reach of the young girl. “Dun’ touch that,” he barked coldly, standing up to keep the knife out of the young girl’s reach.

“Sharp mife?” the girl questioned, moving closer towards the archer. She reached up to grab his arm, trying to reach the knife.

Daryl frowned at the girl. He gently pried his arm away from the girl’s grasp and took a step back, unnerved by the soft touch of the child’s hands. That didn't seem to deter the girl, however.

“Mistah use sharp mife?”

“Scram, kid. Go back to yer mama.”

“Mama?” the girl asked, her eyes lighting up at the mere mention of her mother. “Mama! Get Mama!”

“What? No, that ain’t—” Daryl started, but was abruptly cut off when the girl took off and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, wobbling more like a penguin than anything else. Daryl raised his eyebrows as he watched the girl’s retreating figure, confused by the interaction he just had.

Well, he thought, at least that’s the end of that. However, as Daryl gathered his crossbow and sheathed his knife, he inwardly groaned at the sound of the little girl’s voice calling out to him.

“Mistah! Mama here!”

Daryl turned and looked at two approaching figures. The young girl was holding a woman’s hand, leading the woman over to him. The woman was laughing lightly, allowing herself to be pulled by the little girl.

“Come, Mama!” the little girl giggled, excitedly tugging your hand harder.

“Okay, okay! No need to rip my hand off,” you laughed, soon coming to a stop in front of Daryl.

Daryl looked at you with a frown, scowling slightly. His eyes darted between the excited little girl and you, slightly taken aback by the friendliness you radiated. Despite everything he had done for the community up until that point, only a few select Alexandrians—mainly Aaron and Eric—didn’t show him any contempt or wariness. Yet there you were, smiling up at him and looking as pretty as a picture.

“Mama,” the little girl excitedly told him, pointing up to you. She smiled at you, dimples forming on her chubby cheeks.

Well, the kid certainly knew how to follow orders. He had told her to go get her mama, and there you were.

“I'm Y/N. You must be Daryl?” You introduced yourself, extending your hand for a handshake.

Daryl looked at your hand, not moving to take it. However, just as you were about to lower your hand awkwardly at his dismissal, the little girl stepped forward.

“Like this, mistah,” she instructed, taking the archer’s hand and putting it in yours.

Daryl flinched at the contact and quickly withdrew his hand, looking at the little girl with a small frown. He looked back at you, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.

This was the worst random social situation he’d ever been in.

“Sorry,” you apologized, giving him a sheepish smile before turning back to your daughter. “Hazel, we don’t touch people unless they say we can, alright?”

“Sorry, Mama,” Hazel apologized half-heartedly, not fully understanding what you were saying. She turned back to look at Daryl. “Sorry, Dar.”

“Daryl,” the archer corrected her with a gruff tone of voice, talking for the first time since you had approached him.

Hazel looked up at him in confusion. “Dar,” she repeated herself, a look of concentration on her face.

“No, ‘s—nevermind. Forget it,” Daryl grumbled, shifting his weight from his one leg to the other. He looked back to you again and noticed how awkward you looked, your lips pursed as you avoided his eyes.

“Sorry. She has trouble with pronouncing some words and names. I’m working on helping her with that,” you explained, your body language exuding a challenging aura, as if daring him to insult your daughter for something as miniscule as not being able to pronounce a name.

Daryl noticed the defensive tone in your voice and noticed your defensive stature, making him raise his eyebrows questioningly, yet he refrained from questioning why. “S’alrigh’,” he mumbled, awkwardly fiddling with his crossbow that was slung over his shoulder.

“Okay,” you said, gathering Hazel up into your arms. “Well, it was nice meeting you, but I have to get going. I have to get this gremlin ready for dinner. Sorry for bothering you.”

With that, you turned around and retreated back towards the houses, Hazel happily babbling in your arms. Daryl watched your retreating figure with a sense of uneasiness. In that short interaction, he found himself unexplainably drawn to you. He didn't know you, but some part of him wanted to get to know you.

However, as quickly as that thought entered his mind, he just as quickly disregarded it. He didn’t need to get attached to any more people, especially people who couldn’t protect themselves in this harsh world they were forced to live in. In the end, everyone he cared about died or left, so it was better to spare himself the inevitable pain and keep you and your daughter at an arm’s length.

Something told him that it would be easier said than done, however.

The next morning, Daryl found himself working alongside Aaron. The two of them were busy carrying large pieces of metal to the wall they were busy fortifying, Aaron making casual small talk while Daryl simply hummed in acknowledgement. Once the last piece of metal was added to the already existing pile, the two men wiped the sweat from their foreheads and took a drink of water, before walking over to Aaron’s house. Aaron took a seat on the porch steps while Daryl remained standing on the grass.

“So yeah, that’s how I met Eric,” Aaron told him, concluding his long and winded tale.

“Story straight out a damn romance novel,” Daryl replied sarcastically, eliciting a laugh from Aaron.

“Yeah, yeah. Make fun of it all you want. Everyone always does.”

“Nah, s’a good story. Pretty cliche with the whole spillin’ yer coffee on his shirt bit, but s’still a good story,” Daryl reassured him. “Now c’mon, didn’t ya say somethin’ ‘bout havin’ a part for my bike?”

“Dar!”

As if materializing out of thin air, Hazel excitedly bounded down the porch steps of Aaron’s home and threw herself against Daryl, clinging to his leg in a hug. Caught off guard, Daryl stumbled a bit but quickly regained his footing, his eyes darting down to look at Hazel. His eyebrows raised in surprise before he gently pried the girl from his legs, not used to any kid other than his little Asskicker clinging to him like that.

“Kid, what are ya doin’?” he questioned, taking a step back from her, but it was to no avail. Hazel simply smiled up at him before throwing herself at him again, clinging to his leg like a koala bear.

Aaron chuckled. “I see you’ve met Hazel. She’s quite the character, huh?”

“What’s she even doin’ here?”

“Eric asked to babysit her. He loves having her over, and her mom said yes.”

Hazel giggled against Daryl’s leg, turning her head to look at Aaron. “Hi, Rin!”

“Hey, Hazel,” Aaron chuckled fondly, sending the girl a small wave.

“Rin?” Daryl questioned, placing one of his big hands on the little girl’s head, accepting his fate of being clung to for the time being.

“She can’t say my name properly,” Aaron explained. “She has trouble with pronouncing things sometimes.”

“Yeah, her mama said somethin’ ‘bout that,” Daryl said without really thinking about it.

“So you’ve met her?” Aaron asked, leaning forward with slight interest. He had a small smirk on his face, one that Daryl couldn’t quite decipher.

“Briefly. Hazel practically dragged her over to meet me yesterday,” Daryl replied, looking down at Hazel when he felt her grip loosen on his leg.

Hazel looked up at him and raised her arms, looking at him expectantly. “Upsies,” she said, jumping slightly on her toes. “Dar, upsies!”

To his complete and utter surprise, Daryl found himself leaning down to pick her up. The act hadn’t even fully registered in his brain until the small girl was already in his arms, her small, chubby hands gripping at his shirt as she giggled. The small sound of her laughter made the archer’s heart fill with a sudden and unexpected fondness, completely taking him by surprise. It was the same type of fondness that filled his heart whenever he coaxed a laugh from little Judith, and yet it was completely different at the same time. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“She seems to like you, Daryl,” Aaron laughed, standing up from his position on the porch steps. “Not a lot of people can say that about her.”

“What do ya mean?” Daryl found himself questioning, confused entirely by the man’s revelation. From the limited interactions that the archer has had with the young girl up until that point, he naturally assumed that Hazel was that way with everyone. What would make him special enough to the little girl, who had just met him, to make her treat him differently than she would others?

Aaron motioned for Daryl to follow him into the house, and he obliged, silently entering the pristine house while still carrying Hazel in his arms. The girl took a great interest in his hair, playing with it to entertain herself.

“From what Y/N told us, she was with a group before she got here who treated her and Hazel horribly, and Hazel hasn’t fully regained her trust in adults yet,” Aaron explained.

Daryl frowned. “Badly, how?”

“She wouldn’t say, but it took forever for Eric and I to gain Hazel’s trust. We even tried to bribe her with candy but she wouldn’t budge. But she seems to trust you and you said you only met her yesterday?”

“Yeah. She approached me at that makeshift park the kids play at,” Daryl nodded, rubbing a hand over Hazel’s small back subconsciously, shifting her in his arms slightly.

“Then you’re definitely special, buddy. This kid doesn’t trust easily,” Aaron declared, sitting down on a chair in the dining room.

Daryl followed his lead, taking a seat across from him on a chair while still holding the small girl firmly in his arms. Hazel’s attention shifted from his hair to the loose threads on his sleeveless shirt, playing with them to keep herself occupied.

“They were with a group ‘fore this? How long have they been here?” Daryl questioned, interested in knowing more about you, although he didn’t know why.

“Yeah. Hazel and her mom haven’t been here all that long. I actually found them a couple of days, maybe a week, before I found you all. From what I know, Y/N and Hazel had been on their own for a while before I found them. Y/N almost killed me the first time we met. She thought I was gonna hurt them. It took me and Eric a while to convince her to come back with us, but even then she refused to let her guard down. She was kind of like Rick when we first met, except she didn't tie me up or force me to eat apple sauce.”

Daryl hummed, hissing slightly when he felt Hazel tug at his hair rather harshly. He brought one of his hands up to pry her hand away from his hair, subconsciously rubbing his thumb over her small fist. “That hurts,” he told her softly, surprising himself by the gentleness of his usually gruff voice.

“Sorry, Dar,” Hazel apologized half-heartedly. She yawned before laying her head down on his shoulder. She wrapped her small arms around his neck, nuzzling her head into the crook between his neck and shoulder.

Daryl felt his heart swell with fondness for the second time that day. He gently rubbed her back. From his experience with Judith, that small action could lull a small child into slumber, and he hoped that proved to be correct with Hazel.

“You’re good at that,” Aaron commented, a smile on his face as he watched that small interaction between the big, ‘scary’ man and the small, innocent child.

Daryl looked at him, confused by the look the man was sending him. “Good at what?” he inquired, genuinely curious.

“That,” Aaron repeated himself, motioning to Hazel. “Were you a dad before all of this?”

Daryl stiffened at the question. “Nah,” he shook his head, adjusting Hazel in his arms again. “Not the type’a guy who could’ve started a family back then.”

“And now?” Aaron asked, unaware of Daryl’s inner turmoil.

Daryl inhaled sharply. “To start a family, ya need a partner,” Daryl started, slightly rocking the small girl in his arms. “I ain’t got a partner, and there ain’t exactly women linin’ up to be with me, so kids ain’t somethin’ I see in my future.”

“It could still happen, you know? You might meet someone. Hell, you know what? I know you’ll meet someone.”

“A lot of confidence for somethin’ that most likely won’t ever happen,” Daryl grumbled.

“Never say never, Daryl,” Aaron replied, giving the man a small smirk. “Never say never.”

“Mama! Mama!” Hazel called through the house, excitement evident in her voice.

You smiled at the sound of your daughter’s voice, glad to be able to see her again after a whole day of being alone in your small house. The sun was setting, the stars starting to twinkle in the sky and you were almost done with dinner. Eric had told you that he would bring Hazel back before sunset and you were starting to get worried, but thankfully she seemed to be okay.

You walked into the living room and hunched down to pick up the small girl that ran into your arms, hugging her tightly to you as you placed kisses all over her face. She giggled at the sensation and pulled back, grabbing your hand and excitedly pointing towards the door.

“Mama, Dar here,” she said, smiling widely before turning towards the door.

You followed her line of sight and locked eyes with the archer. You stood up and gave him an awkward smile, painfully aware of the awkward encounter you had with the man the day before. Daryl seemed to mirror your unease; he nervously shifted his weight from one leg to the other, ducking his head to avoid your gaze.

“I see that, Sweetheart,” you replied, keeping your eyes locked on the man before you.

“I played with Rin and Eric. Dar played too!” Hazel happily exclaimed, clapping her hands together in excitement as she looked up at Daryl in awe.

“Did he, now?” you asked rhetorically, marvelling at the sudden and unexpected change of character for the quiet man. Just the day before, he had shrugged Hazel off and seemed to want nothing to do with her, yet now your daughter was claiming that the huntsman had spent time with her that day. It didn’t make any sense whatsoever.

“Yeah! So fun!” Hazel laughed happily, waddling over to Daryl to seemingly hug his leg again.

Daryl, who had been hugged multiple times by the toddler that day, instinctively crouched down to have her hug his side instead of his leg. Hazel wrapped her small arms around him and nuzzled her head into his neck, and Daryl couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face. One day had been more than enough for him to grow fond of the small girl, and he cursed himself for letting his guard down enough for that to happen, but the damage was already done; that little girl had already wormed her way into his heart.

“I'm glad you enjoyed yourself,” you smiled at her, watching the interaction between the archer and your baby girl. “Baby, why don't you go get changed into your blue PJ’s, huh? You're a big girl now, right? Think you can get changed without Mama’s help?”

“Yeah!” she exclaimed happily, pulling away from the hug and giving Daryl a smile, dimples on full display. “Bye, Dar!”

“Bye, Hazel,” Daryl greeted her quietly, watching the girl waddle to the stairs and begin to climb them carefully. He then hesitantly shifted his attention to you, but instead of seeing that wariness he’d grown accustomed to other parents giving him, one that he expected you to give him after his encounter with you the day before, there was a look of curiosity and wonder in your eyes.

“Thanks for bringing her home,” you thanked him, offering the archer a small smile.

Daryl ducked his head. “Ain’t nothin’,” he replied, shaking his head.

“So, you spent the day with her?” you started, looking at him questioningly. “By the way you looked uncomfortable around her yesterday, I figured you’d avoid her at all costs.”

“I was spendin’ the day helpin’ Aaron. He invited me to his place ‘cause he had a part I needed for my bike and Hazel was there. She wouldn’t let go of me after she saw me,” Daryl explained, fiddling with his hands.

“So she basically forced you into spending time with her?” you asked with a small laugh, your eyes crinkling in amusement.

“Pretty much,” Daryl joked, his lips involuntarily twitching into a small smile.

You laughed lightly and Daryl chuckled softly, admiring the way your eyes seemingly sparkled. The dim light of the living room gave you a golden glow, and Daryl found himself admiring your beauty. The unnerving thought struck him at full force and he tried to shake that thought from his mind—he couldn’t let his mind go there. He wouldn’t let his mind go there. He had to keep you at an arm’s length. It was bad enough that Hazel had broke through his barrier in one measly day, so he couldn’t allow her mom to do the same, too. More attachments definitely wasn’t something the archer needed.

“Well, Hazel seems happy. I think you’ve just became her best friend, whether you like it or not,” you told him playfully.

“I have a feeling that I ain’t got much say in the matter.

“Nope,” you laughed. “But thank you. She hasn’t looked that happy in a long time.”

“Glad I could help,” Daryl replied, a small smile on his face. “Sorry for bein’ a dick yesterday.”

“It’s fine. We shouldn't have bothered you.”

“Ya weren’t botherin’ me. I jus’... Weren’t in a good mood, s’all. M’sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” You gave him a sweet smile before turning around. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Daryl frowned in confusion but didn’t say anything. A few minutes passed until you reentered the living room, a lunchbox in your hand. You promptly handed it to him, and Daryl could feel the heat radiating off the bottom.

“What’s this?” he asked, giving you a questioning look.

“Stew. I made more than Hazel and I can finish, so I figured I’d give you some. And before you say anything, just take it. Consider it a thank you gift.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, resisting the urge to deny your ‘gift’. “Thanks.”

“No problem at all,” you reassured him, looking up at him with a smile that made his heart flutter uncontrollably.

Daryl ducked his head, willing the blush on his face to go away. “I should get goin’,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“I’ll walk you out,” you replied, making good of your promise by walking with him over to the door.

Daryl stepped out of your home and turned to you. He gave you a nod and turned to walk away, but stopped when he heard you speak up.

“I hope you realize that she isn’t gonna let you off the hook. You’re going to be stuck with her now. And my daughter and I are a package deal, so you’re going to be stuck with me, too.”

For some unknown reason, Daryl didn’t mind that thought at all.

“Easy, Hazelnut. Ya dun’ wanna hurt yerself, do ya?”

The toddler giggled, her small hands toying with the arrow in her hands. “Sorry, Dar.”

Daryl smiled at the small girl, bringing one of his hands up to ruffle her hair, successfully coaxing another laugh from her. “I know ya are. Jus’ try to be more careful, alright? I dun’ want ya gettin’ hurt.”

“No boo-boos. Boo-boos hurt,” Hazel replied, gingerly handing the arrow back to the archer.

“They do,” Daryl agreed, taking the arrow from the girl. “That’s why ya gotta be careful, alright? Dun’ want anythin’ to happen to someone as sweet as ya, Hazelnut.”

Hazel giggled and nodded. “No boo-boos.”

“No boo-boos,” Daryl repeated, smiling fondly at the young girl.

Two months had passed since Daryl had initially met you and Hazel. In those two months, Daryl had found himself becoming intertwined with your lives, a constant presence for you and your daughter.

The archer hadn’t asked you what had happened to Hazel’s father yet, and he wondered when he could be permitted to ask something as personal as that. However, Daryl knew that there could only be two plausible explanations; either he was dead, or he willingly left. The huntsman really hoped it wasn’t the latter. No person should be left to raise a kid on their own.

However, as Daryl’s love for the young girl grew, so did his feelings for you. It got to the point where he had started wishing that he was Hazel’s dad, that he could’ve been there during your pregnancy and watched your belly grow. He would’ve worshipped your body and been there for you every step of the way. However, as much as he wanted that, that was a dream that couldn’t be a reality, so he settled on being Hazel's best friend instead. At least it meant being able to both bond with the little girl and simultaneously have an excuse to see you.

“The two of you look like you’re having fun. Mind if I join?”

Daryl’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice. His eyes met yours and his heart skipped a beat, that sweet smile of yours making butterflies swarm around in his stomach.

“Mama!” Hazel exclaimed happily, hurrying down the porch steps to fling herself into your arms.

You laughed, picking her up and placing a kiss on her forehead. You looked at Daryl and sent him a smile. “Hey, Daryl.”

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly, fiddling with the arrow in his hands.

“Mama, play with us!” Hazel giggled, wiggling in your arms to be put down.

You lowered her to the ground, watching her climb up the porch steps and clamber into Daryl’s lap. Daryl lowered the arrow and wrapped his arms around her, placing a small kiss to the side of her head. You smiled at the interaction, your heart speeding up against your will.

“I know what I just said, but I actually can’t, Baby. It’s time to go home. It’s dinner time,” you told her.

Hazel frowned and nuzzled her head into Daryl’s neck, a whimper building up in her throat. Instinctively, Daryl started rocking her back and forth, rubbing her small back and shushing her quietly.

“S’alright, dun’ cry. Ya will see me again tomorrow, alright?” he whispered into her ear, his heart breaking at the sound of her sniffles. When he felt her nod, he placed one final kiss to the side of her head before placing her back down. “Why dun’ ya go say bye to Jude?”

Hazel looked at you expectantly, and you nodded. “Go ahead, Baby. I’ll wait for you.”

Hazel ran into the house, leaving you and Daryl alone on the porch. The archer stood up and walked down to meet you on the grass, pushing his hands into his pockets as he looked at you through his hair. As you looked at him, it took all of your willpower to resist the urge to brush his hair out of his face and cup his cheek. Not trusting your own hands, you crossed your arms and looked up at the huntsman, giving him a small smile.

“This is the first time ya’ve come to pick her up. I usually bring her home. S’somethin’ wrong?” Daryl inquired, searching your eyes for an answer.

You shook your head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just figured that I could come pick her up for a change. Spare you the walk back to my place.”

“It ain’t that far,” Daryl pointed out, motioning down the street. “Jus’ a couple’a houses down.”

“Yeah, I know, but...” you trailed off, unsure if you should lay your problems onto him.

“But what?” he questioned, suddenly on edge. Had you changed your mind about him? About him being around you and your daughter? He really hoped not.

You hesitated for a moment. “It’s nothing. Just some moms around the community who like to be judgy.”

“What are they sayin’?”

“That I'm a bad mom for not taking the time out of my day to pick up my own daughter. That I’m dumping my responsibilities onto other people. Just thought I’d start proving them wrong.”

“Hey, yer not a bad mom. I like bringin’ Hazel home at the end of the day. That way I know she’s safe.” He also liked it because it meant he got to see you being all domestic, hugging your daughter tightly and sending him beautiful smiles, inviting him to stay for dinner each time. He always declined, not wanting to be a burden, but your offer never waned.

You smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Daryl instantly noticed it and placed one of his hands on your shoulder, taking you by surprise. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and your skin flushed where he touched you.

“Dun’ let ‘em convince ya that yer a bad mom. I ain’t never seen a better mom than ya. How many moms here can say that they kept their kid alive out there in the real world? That, despite everythin’, their kid came first and that they would kill for them?”

“How did you know I wasn’t here from the start?”

“Aaron told me he that found ya and Hazel on yer own not too long before he found us. The fact that ya kept her alive on yer own for that long proves to me that yer the best fuckin’ mom under the sun.”

You smiled at him and placed your hand over his that was still resting on your shoulder. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“No problem,” he replied, holding eye contact with you. His hand lingered on your shoulder for longer than necessary, and he gazed deep into your eyes.

Your heart sped up and stopped beating at the same time, noticing a shift in the archer’s emotions. However, before either of you could do anything else, Daryl snapped out of it and withdrew his hand, taking a step back.

You cleared your throat and ducked your head, your face heating up. Luckily, Hazel ran out at that moment and bounded down the stairs, throwing herself into Daryl’s side and clinging to his leg.

“Bye, Dar!”

Daryl pressed Hazel tightly to him. “Bye, Hazelnut.”

Hazel unwound her arms from around him and moved over to you, extending her arms to be picked up. You did just that, holding her tightly to you. You turned to Daryl and offered him a small smile.

“You know, my offer still stands. You could join us for dinner.”

Daryl was about to decline your offer again, but Hazel cut him off.

“Yes! Please, Dar!”

In that moment, Daryl found that he wouldn’t be able to say no this time around. He just would’t be able to. He gave you both a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

You smiled broadly. “Great! Come on, then.”

“Dun’ I need to change?”

“No, you’re fine, don’t worry. You can come as is.”

“Alright,” Daryl nodded. “Let’s go.”

“Could you maybe get Hazel settled into her highchair? I’ll be right out with the food.”

Daryl nodded and watched you retreat from the dining room into the kitchen before turning around. “Hazelnut!” he called, hearing the toddler’s footsteps come into the dining room.

Hazel stared up at the archer with a huge smile, her arms extended to be picked up. Daryl smiled softly at the girl and leaned down to pick her up, placing her in her highchair. Once he was sure that she was settled and wouldn’t fall out, he got settled in the chair next to her, listening to Hazel’s happy babbling.

Soon enough, you reentered the dining room with a pot of spaghetti and meatballs. The aroma of the meal made Daryl’s mouth practically water. The last time he’d eaten spaghetti was when Aaron had invited him, and that was a good couple of months ago at that point.

“It smells fuckin’ good,” Daryl complimented you without really thinking about his choice of words, and he instantly regretted not thinking about them beforehand.

“Fuck,” Hazel repeated happily, completely oblivious to the horrified look that spread over Daryl’s face, or the amused one that spread over yours.

“Nah, Hazelnut, dun’ say that. Dun’ ever say that,” he told her hurriedly, his heart beating faster at his mistake.

“Fuck,” Hazel giggled.

“No, I jus’ said—” Daryl started, shooting you a worried look. However, he calmed down when he saw your amused smile. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” you told him, laughing lightly while serving everyone some food. “Don’t look so worried. I’m not gonna bite your head off because of one little slip up. If I had a penny for every time I accidentally slipped up since she was born, I would’ve had enough money to be able to buy a yacht in the old world. You’re good, don’t worry.

“Okay, but we can’t have her goin’ ‘round sayin’ that, though,” Daryl replied, taking a deep breath to calm himself. You weren’t mad. Everything was fine.

“You’re right about that,” you started, turning to look at Hazel. “Baby, you can’t say fuck, okay? That word belongs to Daryl. Until he’s ready to share that word, you can’t say it, alright?”

“Okay, Mama,” Hazel replied, starting to eat her food rather messily.

Daryl chuckled softly at the girl before turning to his own food. He started eating as well, the flavours of the delicious meal melting on his tongue. He wanted to gulp it all down but he resisted the urge, instead eating with a delicacy he never knew existed in him.

The meal was mostly spent in silence, save for Hazel’s happy babbling and the occasional input from you or Daryl. Daryl did, however, sneak glances at you when you weren’t looking, admiring your beauty and the soft, loving, tender way you acknowledged your daughter and the tenderness you used when you wiped her face clean of the sauce.

Unbeknownst to the archer, you had also been sneaking glances at him. Admiring his gentleness with your daughter, the way his eyes softened and the quiet chuckles he would let out whenever Hazel did something amusing, or the small smiles he would send in your direction. It was amazing how important Daryl had become to you and Hazel in a span of a few months. The big, gruff, quiet man with a heart of gold, who had invaded your thoughts and your heart. It was both terrifying and thrilling to think about.

Your respective meals were soon finished. and Hazel’s eyes were beginning to droop. You noticed it and got up to take her out of her highchair. She instantly laid her head down onto your shoulder and closed her eyes, and you placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

“You tired, Baby?” you cooed, rubbing her back gently. When she simply responded by nuzzling her face deeper into your shoulder, you laughed fondly and turned to Daryl, sending him an apologetic look. “Sorry, I should probably get this little rascal to bed. You can stay here. I’ll be right back.”

However, as soon as you said that, Hazel interjected. “Dar tuck me in with Mama?” she asked innocently, lifting her head up to look at Daryl.

Daryl looked surprised. He locked eyes with you, his heart fluttering at the smile you sent him.

“If Daryl’s okay with it,” you whispered, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“Yeah, ‘course,” Daryl replied, nodding his head.

You motioned for him to follow you upstairs, and he obliged. Together, the two of you descended up the stairs and into Hazel’s bedroom. Daryl stopped in the doorway, not wanting to overstep any boundaries, but you had other ideas. You gently took his hand and led him into the room, only letting go of it to tuck your daughter into bed. Daryl subconsciously placed his hand on your shoulder instead, watching place your little girl into bed.

Hazel was already half asleep when you put her into her bed. She instantly curled up into her pillow and let out a big sigh, her eyes opening only slightly. In her view, she saw you, her mom, the woman who always protected her when the two of you were living on the road outside the walls, and always loved her despite her shenanigans. And Daryl, the man who at first had been kind of mean, but was now always there for both her and her mom. The man who undeniably had started to feel like a daddy to her.

“Night, Mama. Night, Daddy,” Hazel mumbled, her eyes closing and she drifted into slumber. In seconds, she was out cold.

Time froze for a moment. Daryl’s eyes widened and his heart practically pounded out of his chest. There was no way that he had heard it right. There was no way that Hazel had just called him dad. There was no way that Hazel trusted and loved him enough to see him as her father. She couldn’t, could she?

He turned to look at you and noticed the unreadable expression on your face. You didn’t address what she had just said, however, and Daryl was too nervous to bring it up himself.

“We should probably let her sleep,” you whispered to him, motioning towards the door.

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed and followed you out the door.

Together, the two of you descended down the stairs and back into the dining room. You turned to look at Daryl and motioned towards the living room.

“You can wait in the living room. I just wanna put the dishes in the sink and then I’ll join you.”

“Nah, let me help,” Daryl protested, moving over to grab all the dishes. Before you could protest, Daryl walked into the kitchen. You quickly followed behind him and watched him put the dishes in the sink, but before he could start washing them, you quickly stopped him.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll wash them tomorrow,” you assured him. “Do you want some wine?”

Daryl nodded and hummed, silently observing as you grabbed two glasses from the cabinet, as well as a bottle of wine. You placed the glasses on the counter before popping the the bottle open, pouring the two of you each a glass of wine. You handed him the glass and propped yourself onto the counter, letting your legs swing below you.

Daryl leaned against the counter and took a sip of his wine, humming in approval at the taste. “S’good. Thanks.”

“It’s nothing, really. I've been wanting a reason to open the bottle for a while now.”

“Ya can’t jus’ drink it whenever ya want?” Daryl questioned, taking another sip from the glass in his hand.

“I could, but I prefer not to. I don’t want to be like—” you started, but abruptly stopped. You hurriedly took a sip of your wine, welcoming the taste in your mouth.

“Like who?” Daryl asked, frowning at the uncomfortable look on your face.

You hesitated for a long moment, not sure if you should tell Daryl about your past problems. You were afraid that Daryl would look at you differently if you revealed anything. However, as you looked into his eyes, you only saw care and concern, so you found yourself confiding in him.

“Hazel’s father,” you revealed, pursing your lips at the thought of the man you hated more than anything in the world.

“What was he like?” Daryl asked, placing his glass down on the counter. He turned his full attention to you, his eyes trailing over your face for any shift in emotion.

“He was a fucking asshole,” you spat angrily, clenching your jaw in anger. “He was a raging alcoholic and a frequent drug user. He didn’t even stop when Hazel was born. If anything, it got worse. I tried so hard to get him sober, but nothing worked. He always yelled at me and threatened to hurt Hazel whenever I brought it up, but I stayed. I was too scared to leave. And then one day, when I woke up, he was just... Gone. No note, no phone call, nothing. Hazel was barely one year old.”

Daryl frowned deeply, anger bubbling inside him at the thought of someone hurting you and Hazel so badly. He clenched his fist and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He had no right to get angry. That wasn’t something that happened to him.

“Not too long after that, the world went to shit. His sister came to pick us up and took us to her camp, and that’s where I saw that asshole again. He treated Hazel so badly and got the other people in the camp to taunt and be mean to her. Hazel didn’t even do anything wrong, and I never even brought up the fact that she was his kid, but they all ganged up on her. Thankfully it never got physical, but I could tell that it really scarred her. It went on until the camp got overrun, and all of those fuckers got what they deserved. The only reason Hazel and I got out was because his sister helped us. She sacrificed herself for us. After that, Hazel and I were on our own for more than a year. I’m surprised that I managed to keep us alive for that long on my own, but I managed. And then Aaron and Eric found us, and the rest is history.”

Daryl was speechless. It angered him that someone would hurt you like that, would hurt little Hazel like that. And the fact that you had to survive on your own for that long... It amazed him. He wished that he could’ve found you earlier and have protected you and Hazel from all those horrors, but there was nothing he could do to change the past. He could only ensure that nothing ever touched you in the future.

“Yer a strong woman. The fact that ya went through all’a that and managed to keep Hazel alive and love her unconditionally proves that. Yer amazing and I hope ya know that.”

You were taken aback by the sudden confession, but a smile soon spread across your face. You hopped off the counter and stood in front of him, almost chest to chest. You looked up at him, your faces close enough to close the remaining distance between your lips. You didn’t even fully know why you did that. It was more than likely liquid courage, you figured.

“You’re amazing too. I don’t think you realize how much you mean to Hazel, how much you mean to me.”

With that, you closed the remaining distance between your lips. You pressed your lips against his softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. After a moment of shock, Daryl kissed you back feverishly, pulling you closer by your hips to have you flush against his body. You gasped against his lips, allowing Daryl to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into his mouth and pressed yourself harder against him, eliciting a groan from the man.

As soon as you pulled away for air, you tugged Daryl by the lapel of his vest. “Wanna take this to my room?” you whispered, breathless from the ravenous kiss.

“What ‘bout Hazelnut? Won’t she wake up?” Daryl asked, pressing his forehead against yours.

“No. She’s out cold. The chances of her waking up are basically nonexistent.”

Daryl let out a deep breath and nodded, allowing you to pull him up the stairs. The two of you soon stumbled into your room, hurriedly closing the door and pawing at each other’s clothes. However, when you reached for Daryl’s shirt, he stopped you, a pained look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, a worried look on your face. “Did I do something wrong?”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, ya didn’t do nothin’.”

“Then what’s wrong?” you asked him, gently cupping his cheek in your hand. “Talk to me. I promise I won’t judge.”

Daryl inhaled sharply. “I didn’t have a good childhood,” was all he offered before slowly removing his shirt.

Your eyes hungrily trailed over his body, your hands reaching forward to press against his chest. Sure, a few scars littered his chest, but they didn’t repulse you. You didn’t understand what Daryl was talking about until you got a glimpse of his back in the mirror in your room. The scars on his back were jagged and raised, and you instantly knew what they meant; someone had hurt this perfect man before you, and you felt so angry.

You walked behind him. “May I?” you whispered, your hands hovering over his back.

Daryl hesitantly nodded. You softly ran your fingers over his scars, your touch feathery light. The archer shivered involuntarily, closing his eyes at the feeling. Before meeting you, the only feeling that he ever associated with his back was pain from his father’s cruelty, yet there you were, tracing over his scars as if they were priceless paintings in a museum.

Soon your fingers were replaced with your lips, and Daryl’s eyes flew open. Your lips softly kissed over his scars, trailing down to the lowest scars on his lower back. When you were done, you turned him around to face you. You gently cupped his cheek, a small smile on your face.

“You're perfect to me, Daryl. You’re so sweet, kind and caring. Hell, my daughter called you dad. That says plenty.”

“M’perfect?”

“You're perfect.”

That was all you had to say for Daryl to pull you into another fiery kiss. The two of you soon toppled onto your bed, spending a night filled with passion together.

That next morning when Hazel woke up and walked into your room, she was pleasantly surprised to find Daryl sleeping there, holding you, her mama. She was, however, confused that when she woke the two of you up, you clutched the sheets to your bodies and refused to let her climb under them with you like you normally would do.

Two years later...

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Hazel. Happy birthday to you!”

You and Daryl cheered as Hazel blew out the candles on her homemade cake. Hazel laughed as she struggled to blow out the last one of the five candles on the cake, eliciting soft chuckles from you and Daryl. When she finally managed to extinguish it, you and Daryl each handed her a gift. She clapped her hands excitedly. She got up from her seat and ran to hug you and Daryl, which you both returned.

“Thank you, Mama. Thank you, Daddy,” she thanked with a big smile, eyeing the wrapped gifts on the table.

“Dun’ thank us yet, Hazelnut,” Daryl responded with a smile. “Go ahead and open ‘em.”

Hazel hurriedly opened each of the gifts and gasped with delight, holding up a colouring book, new crayons, and a new doll. She giggled in excitement at the gifts. “Can I go show these to Judith? We can colour and play dolls together now!”

You laughed and nodded. “Sure, Baby. Just be good for Auntie Michonne and Uncle Rick, okay?”

“Okay!” she agreed and took off in a run, throwing the front door open and disappearing out of it.

“I can’t believe she’s growin’ up so fast,” Daryl mumbled, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He rested his chin on the top of your head.

“I know, right? She’ll be moving away from home for college soon enough,” you joked.

“Hmm,” Daryl hummed, chuckling at your joke.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, turning around in the archer's arms. “I got something for you, too.”

“For me?” he asked in confusion, frowning slightly. “Why? It ain’t my birthday for another couple’a months.”

“I know, but this can’t wait that long. Here,” you told him, handing him a small box.

Daryl gingerly took the box from your hands and opened it. His eyes widened at the item inside, picking it up and looking at it. After examining it for a couple of moments, he confirmed that his mind indeed wasn’t playing a trick on him—it was a positive pregnancy test.

“Yer—Yer pregnant?” he asked, a smile spreading over his face.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, nodding your head. A laugh escaped you when Daryl picked you up and spun you around, before he placed you back on the ground and pulled you into a kiss.

When he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against yours. “Hazelnut’s gon’ have a baby sibling. We’re gon’ have another kid.”

“We are,” you agreed, closing your eyes. “I love you, Daryl.”

Daryl placed a gentle kiss against your forehead. “I love ya, too. And I already love that lil’ peanut in yer belly.”

“Hazelnut and Peanut, huh?”

“Yeah. Our two babies. Our own lil’ family,” Daryl told you wistfully, placing his hand on your stomach, over the life that was growing there.

“We have Hazel to thank for this. If she didn’t instantly like you back then, this might never have happened,” you told him, placing your hand over his.

“Remind me to thank her when she gets back later. But for now, let’s enjoy our alone time,” Daryl replied suggestively, tugging you with him as he walked backwards towards the stairs.

“I like that idea.”

Your son pulled his covers up around him, nice and tight and right up to the collar of his favorite blue pajamas. A soft chuckle escaped you as you watched him, your little one squirming under the blankets to get his head on the pillow just right. Once he was settled, he beamed up at you, a twinkle in his cerulean eyes only a child could possess. Every night, it was the same routine, and every night was somehow more entertaining than the last.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” you cooed, resting on the edge of the bed next to him, your gentle touch sweeping hair back and out of his face.

“Sleep tight, bud,” Daryl echoed, a tender hand on your shoulder as he towered next to you.

Theodore blinked up at his dad, and when his voice dropped to that soft, familiar tone, you both knew what was coming—the last step of his nighttime routine.

“Daddy? Can you scare away the monsters under my bed?”

For a brief moment, your shining eyes met your husband’s crystal-blue ones, and you rose from your spot on the bed to step out of the way. The closet door creaked as you rested back against it, propping one foot up and crossing your arms over your chest. The two of you had been trying for months now to help your son overcome his fear of the “monsters under his bed,” and there had been a steady period of improvement for the last few months. But with spooky season in full swing, his fears had ramped up again, and you felt like you were right back at square one.

Daryl crouched down, kneeling next to the bed and meeting Theodore’s gaze, his own softening at the fear occupying his son’s eyes. “What’ve we been talkin’ ‘bout, Theo? Monsters aren’t real.”

“Please?” The little guy’s plea was almost a whimper, and with just how frightened he looked, he couldn’t deny him.

Daryl shifted and ducked his head under the bed, amping up the dramatics as he pretended to go toe-to-toe with the big scary creatures taking up residency under Theo’s bed. “Now what’d I say last time? Ya gon’ get out, and ya gon’ leave m’son alone.”

He was silent for a few moments, huffing like a bull ready to charge, allowing time for the “monsters” to run away after his declaration of violence if they didn’t scram. “I said get!” he shouted, waving his hand under the bed like he was shooing the last of them off.

After another few moments, he picked his head back up, nodding in satisfaction. “Right. They’re gone.”

“Thanks.” Theo’s voice was steady, strong, unwavering now, like he felt braver after that one simple act from his dad. And now, he was ready to get some shut-eye and drift off to a monster-free dreamland.

As he rose, you nodded in the direction of the bedroom door, and Daryl followed, flipping the light switch off as he walked past. “‘Course, kiddo.”

“Goodnight, Mommy. Goodnight, Daddy,” Theo called out mid-yawn, wanting to make sure he caught you before you shut the door.

You blew him a kiss through the crack in the old mahogany door, your words just above a whisper. “Sweet dreams, angel.” The soft ‘click’ of the door handle echoed behind you as you took your husband’s arm, ready to crawl into bed and sink down into a deep, peaceful slumber.

But that was yesterday.

And today, well…the monsters were far from just under your son’s bed.

The streets of Atlanta were lined with empty vehicles, some crashed into streetlights and some abandoned where they stopped, door left open from occupants jumping out at a moment’s notice. Local police and the National Guard were sent out in droves, megaphones in hand, ordering anyone and everyone out on the streets to evacuate or seek shelter. Civilians ran like chickens with their heads cut off, clutching babies to their chests and squeezing their partner’s hands like their lives depended on it. And in a sick, twisted way, it did. Because anyone who got left behind was dinner for the things lurking on every corner.

Whatever they were, they looked like people, but...wrong. Their skin was rotten, dotted with shades of blue and purple that only ever decorated the deceased. Their nails were jagged, sharp, and their faces were sunken and hollow. Their eyes, despite looking human, were soulless, with not a single spark of life behind them. Some were missing limbs. Others were missing everything from the waist down, using what remained of their hands to drag their mangled bodies across the pavement, never ceasing to search for their next meal.

“Y/N! Theo!” Daryl threw an old backpack over his shoulder, the ratty thing filled to the brim with whatever food, first aid supplies, and camping tools from all his years in the woods would fit. “We gotta go!”

In your son’s room, you helped him slip a shirt over his head, doing your best to keep your voice calm and your hands from shaking. Admittedly, though, you wondered what good it would do, given that he could hear his dad running around frantic and the emergency alert sirens blaring outside. But you had to be brave—or at least pretend to be—for him.

“Come on, baby,” you encouraged, pulling his right arm through his sleeve after finally getting his left one in.

“I'm scared, Mommy.” The words hung heavy in the air, stagnant, like a confession of something he didn’t want to admit. He stared down at his feet, wiggling his toes in his velcro-strap sneakers, pure shame etched into his features.

“I know, sweetheart.” You placed your hands on his shoulders, providing tender squeezes in an effort to soothe his worries. “But I need you to be really brave for me, okay? Can you do that?”

With a hard swallow, all he could do was nod in reply.

A few seconds later, Daryl was in the doorframe, panting like he’d just finished sprinting laps around the block, the keys to his truck dangling from his fingers. He’d grabbed the bag you’d packed and the one you packed for your son, Theo’s filled with some of his favorite toys and extra clothes, which of course included those blue pajamas from the night before.

“C’mon,” he ordered, nodding toward the living room. “We gotta move. Street’s crawlin’ with them monsters.”

At the use of the M word, your son lifted his head, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. But try as he might, he couldn’t stop a stray one from escaping. “But Daddy,” he choked out, clearly trying his hardest to put up a front and be brave like he’d promised you, “I thought you said monsters aren't real.”

The silence between the three of you seemed to stretch on for hours. It was awkward, painful, heavy in a way that pressed on your chest and left you struggling to breathe. He looked between you & his dad, pleading with his eyes that this was just some silly game Mommy & Daddy were playing, and at any moment, you’d shout “gotcha!” and scoop him into your arms, tickling him as you crashed onto the bed.

But in his fear-filled little mind, even he knew that wasn’t true.

What could you say? What could Daryl say? Neither of you had an explanation for the chaos unfolding outside Theo’s bedroom window. For once, when your son was standing before you, quivering in fear, you didn’t have an answer. There was nothing you could do.

“Come on, angel.” You grabbed Theo and hoisted him into your arms, clutching him as close to your chest as possible and taking your bag from Daryl, haphazardly tossing it over your shoulder. You couldn’t afford to waste another minute.

Following your husband through your apartment and out your front door, all you could do was worry. You had no plan, nowhere to go, didn’t know if you could run or hide. You did your best to cover Theo’s ears and pressed his face into your shoulder as you sped down the stairs, hoping to block out what you could of the horrifying sounds coming from every corner and hide the sight of blood splatters on the walls.

And as you stepped out onto the street, you knew only one thing for certain…the monsters were real.

And they were here.

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“That is unholy.” You wrinkled your nose, holding Birdie’s feet together and her little bottom off the blanket as you wiped her clean. The cool air against her fragile skin was bound to be the reason she was crying. Well, that and the abomination that had been in her diaper. 

“I know it’s cold, baby.” You smiled sadly down at the squalling infant while ensuring that her skin was clean before beginning to fasten the clean diaper. Disposable ones were running low. You would need to switch to the cloth ones soon. 

You heard Daryl before you saw him, knees carefully pressing into the ground above Birdie’s head. 

“Hey, now.” His voice was a quiet rumble, just loud enough for his daughter to catch her breath and seek him out. Carol said she could probably make out faces at around a month old. Birdie was only a few days from that if you were counting correctly. Sometimes it was difficult to keep up. Regardless of whether or not she could see him, she knew her daddy. By voice. By touch. By presence alone. “Gonna be warm in a minute.”

You watched him as you dressed the baby in her thick sleeper, your movements practiced and precise without truly paying attention. He was bowing over the squirming infant, brushing the pad of his index finger up and down the bridge of her nose, between her eyes. Her little mouth formed an ‘o’ as if he was weaving magic. 

Maybe he was. In your eyes at least. 

“You and Rick still going out?” You asked, swaddling Birdie before Daryl scooped her up. He was on his feet first, offering you a hand. You took it without hesitation.

“Mhm.” He nodded, gently swaying Birdie even though she wasn’t fussing. “Gotta find a place to hunker down ‘fore Lori has that baby.” The corner of his mouth lifted when Birdie made a cooing noise while her eyes tried to focus on his face. “Want you an’ Bird to have a place too. Even if s’just for a lil’ while.”

You hummed, laying your head against his arm just to watch him with Birdie. Scenes you would play on repeat when things would seem hopeless. “Alright.” You said quietly. 

It was clear you didn’t want him to go. In a world gone to hell, any venture could be the one he didn’t come back from. There had been too many close calls already. Too many losses. 

“C’mon, y’need to eat.” Daryl said, leaning a bit of his weight into you to urge you into moving. You took the hint.

Birdie’s little mouth was moving in her sleep as if suckling at your breast. She was in a wrap against your chest, your palm on her bottom in fear that she could fall out even as Carol promised she was secure. The point, after all, was to free up your hands. 

“Be safe.” The corner of your mouth twitched when Daryl only gave a quiet mhm, too busy leaning in to brush the back of a single knuckle over Birdie’s soft cheek. “So I’m just the milk factory. Got it.” Your words were a teasing lilt, enough to have him squinting his eyes at you. 

“Stop.” He drawled, shaking his head. With a rough kiss to your cheek, he placed his palm on your face to give a gentle shove. You could recall several times he’d used the gesture before when you annoyed him. The difference being that your baby was strapped to your front. Since Daryl would never compromise her safety, you felt his hand quickly move to your shoulder to ensure you remained steady. 

“Love you.” You murmured when he turned towards where Rick waited. The smile he gave you over his shoulder, small but sure, brought to life the butterflies in your stomach. Damn that man. How did he go from railing you against trees while growling the filthiest dialogue you’d ever heard to gentle touches and wordless smiles that made your heart flip?

You watched him disappear before rubbing your hand over Birdie’s back, seeking out Lori and Carol while the others busied themselves with whatever productive activity they could manage to find. 

“And I thought I respected you before.” Lori groaned as you took a seat next to her. She looked miserable. You could remember that feeling. This wasn’t the woman’s first child but it was her first while constantly on the move to ensure survival. 

You didn’t know what to say. Pregnancy and childbirth had tested you in ways you had never thought possible. It likely would have even in the old world, but the apocalypse had made things more complicated. Not to mention the relationship you had built with Daryl, climbing to a place of love and trust only to watch it shatter and be forced to pick up the pieces, gluing them back together while trying to conserve the cracks as lessons learned. Kintsugi of the heart, so to speak. 

“Maybe they’ll find something.” Carol said, leaning to get a peek at the sleeping Birdie. 

Thank God the baby had seemed to settle over the last several days. Maybe Hershel was wrong. Not colic. Just stress. She was constantly surrounded by fluctuating emotions. Fear, anger, desperation. But she was also surrounded with love. 

As for you, the experience with Daryl, the way you had seen how quickly both he and Birdie could be gone—it had been enough to tame the postpartum turmoil to a bearable level. You were still emotional. Sometimes, it was all too much. But Daryl had adapted as well. He now knew the signs and was the one to give you a break. It wasn’t like it was a burden to him. The way he doted over that baby, loved her with every fiber of his being—it was beautiful. 

“Maybe.” You murmured, joining the conversation a little late, but they knew you. They could have moved on to something else, but Lori and Carol knew. 

“I wonder if this one’s a boy or a girl.” Lori rubbed a hand over her mound of a belly. The baby had dropped. Visibly. She was close to delivering. You couldn’t help but feel a fear for her that you had felt yourself. Laboring on the side of the road. Pushing while running for your life. 

“Girl.” Carol said, matter-of-factly. 

“Girl.” You agreed with a nod. You truthfully had no idea but you could see how crazy Lori was over her son and then over your daughter. Maybe having an extra boost of excitement would alleviate some of the anxiety. She had been such an anchor for you. The least you could do was try to be the same for her. 

A shift against you, a small mitten covered hand stretching out the edge of the wrap, a little grunt—all rallied together to gain your attention. Pulling the fabric out to tuck her hand back inside, you watched her root for a moment before she settled. 

Birdie looked more and more like Daryl everyday. There were hints of you, but otherwise, it appeared she had come right out of her father. And you were okay with that. 

“She’s beautiful, Peanut.”

You looked over at your father, shifting your daughter in your arms so that he could see her better. “Sorry, she didn’t get much of our side of the family.”

“That’s okay.” He reached out to brush a finger over Birdie’s cheek, her eyes wide and almost appearing crossed as she cooed. “She’s still the prettiest little thing I’ve seen.”

“I’m offended. I thought I was.” You smirked, nudging his shoulder with your own. Looking away from him, adjusting the baby’s blanket, your expression sobered. “I’m dreaming again.” It wasn’t a question. Somehow you knew. 

“You are.” 

You felt his hand in your hair, smoothing over it in a touch that felt more like a ghostly whisper. “I wish you could stay.” The tear that escaped was warm against your cheek. 

“Me too. I’d really like to shake that boy’s hand.” 

Your brow furrowed, your head turning and tilting. “Daryl?”

“Mhm.” He nodded. “He’s doing a fine job given the circumstances.” He smiled when you snorted, his thumb brushing away the moisture on your cheek. When his head turned, you followed, not knowing why. There was just this pull. 

Daryl was standing at the edge of the treeline, crossbow hanging at his side. 

“Not a boy at all, is he? Takes a man to step up like he has.” There was pride in your father’s tone. Approval. “Definitely has my blessing to marry my girl.”

You smiled. Just a soft curve to your lips. “Would’ve married him anyway, but thanks, daddy.” 

You closed your eyes and tried to memorize the feel of your dad’s lips against your temple. The warmth and weight of his hand on your shoulder. “I know you would’ve. If for no other reason than to get on my nerves.”

There was silence after that, your eyes on Daryl while your father’s presence began to slip away. “I love you, daddy.”

“I’ll always love you, Peanut.” He sounded far away, like he was already gone. “Wake up, now. He’s back.”

Your eyes fluttered open just as Daryl crouched in front of you. Real. He was leaning and craning his neck to see Birdie within the wrap and beneath the blanket. 

“Hi.” You greeted, feeling lighter than you had in a long while. Daryl’s eyes slid up to meet your gaze, nodding his own greeting. There was something there. You sat up straight, your back protesting slightly from being pressed against the hard surface of the tree trunk. “What?”

Daryl looked back over his shoulder where Rick and the others were talking in a circle. “Found a place.”

Later, he'd take you both out to a quiet lake, somewhere he was sure was clear where no walkers or anything would come and disturb you. He'd sit behind you in the warm and soothing sun, keeping hands on you and massaging you, peppering kisses to your shoulders and the nape of your neck, whispering endless praises in your ears as you watch your daughter collect little blossoms and such not far from you, playing with Dog.

“Look at her… you gave me that. Thank you Dar…” You say quietly in wonder and gratitude.

“Ya gave me tha’. Thank you. Ya deserve everythin’. Best damn momma in tha world.” Another kiss to the soft spot behind your ear.

And later, he'd cook you dinner – some fancy cut of venison he'd only ever make for you, then having a campfire in the backyard, the three of you stargazing till your daughter soon falls asleep in your laps. He'd carry her up to bed, and you'd split glasses of wine in the kitchen.

And with the kid asleep, his hands find purchase on your waist, smoothing over your clothed frame as you'd exchange flirty comments. He was so drunk on love for you, mouth sucking lightly at your jawline and neck, trailing down, eager to continue on the skin of your chest.

It wasn't long before you were stumbling to your bedroom, Daryl's hands caressing every single inch of your body, never able to get enough of you.

His head would stay buried between your thighs for as long as you'd want it – no matter how fatigued his tongue got, how sore his jaw became, he didn't even notice it as his focus stayed locked on listening to your every moan, watching you writhe and buck up to his touch.

He'd thank you in every single way imaginable for being a mother. The mother of his child. For everything you do for him, everything you do for your daughter, and everything you do in general, reminding you just how perfect you are. and maybe making you a mother twice over.

“Ain’t usually like this… ya just arrived at the end of a full-on war,” he said.

Far from seeing concern or judgement on your face, Daryl noted that you seemed to be seeing it with eyes that picked out the potential. He felt another swell of warmth for you. “If it’s home for you, then it’ll be home for us too,” you said. “And I’ll be more than happy to help however I can with the rebuilding.”

Home. It was true that Alexandria was home, and he would die to defend it and the people in it, but there was another home that he’d lost a long time ago, and it was now walking beside him… Then, he suddenly remembered what Carol had said to him at the wall. “Please tell me you aren’t going to stick them in some random empty apartment or house.” His feet must have faltered because you turned and glanced over at him immediately.

“Everything okay?”

“Uhh—yeah… I just—” he chewed anxiously on his bottom lip for a moment, and you nearly smiled. It was the same nervous habit he’d always had. “I was thinkin’, if you and DJ wanted to… I mean, ya could stay at my place. I’ve got a spare bedroom—s’where Jude and RJ usually sleep when I’ve got ‘em, but that ain’t no big deal. I can make ‘em up bedrolls on the floor in my room if they’re stayin’ or—” he was rambling nervously, “—if ya ain’t comfortable with that, I mean, stayin’ at my place, we’ve got plenty of other apartments and houses. We could set ya up somewhere else—I just thought, with DJ, might be easier—and maybe would be, I dunno, would be—"

“Daryl—” You stopped him with a hand gentle on his arm. “Of course we’d love to stay with you, if you’re okay with the extra trouble.”

He gulped. The last fucking thing he wanted now was to be parted from you and DJ, even if it was just by half a block. “Ain’t no extra trouble,” he drawled quietly, slightly transfixed from the touch of your hand on his arm.

You laughed. “You say that now… but you may have forgotten over the last decade, I can be a handful,” you joked. “And DJ? He takes after his dad in some ways.”

Daryl let out an amused exhale and shook his head. “Poor kid,” he joked, but you shot him a look.

“Lucky kid,” you corrected him. God, he’d missed that. You had always been so affirming to him. You had unwavering confidence in him and you told him and showed him every damn day. His internal monologue was often so dark, especially lately with things all seeming to go wrong. But you had always shown a light on him, always told him so earnestly that he was good and loved even when he didn’t believe it or didn’t feel he deserved it himself. He felt a swell of gratitude and emotion and fought against what felt like a huge bubble in his chest that was getting ready to burst. Your voice interrupted him.

“So. Which way is home?” You were looking at him expectantly.

“Uhh, this way,” he murmured, tilting his head toward the next street over. He let out a loud whistle and Dog turned and came rushing back. “Hey—Jude, RJ. Let’s go! We’re gonna help Y/N and DJ get settled, alright?”

“Uncle Daryl?” RJ said when he had trotted over, looking up with shining brown eyes.

“Yeah, bud?”

“I’m hungry,” he said.

Daryl ruffled a hand through his own hair a little anxiously. “Yeah… yeah, we’ll have to see ‘bout that in a bit. Let’s head home first and then I’ll figure that out, okay?”

You and Daryl exchanged a knowing glance. Keeping growing kids nourished was a constant worry.

“Mom?” DJ asked you softly. You looked down at him with a questioning look. He dug into his small bag and pulled out an apple. It was slightly bruised on one side, but shone bright red in the sun and seemed just as crisp as when you’d picked it for him a few days back. “Can I?” he asked. Your heart swelled and you nodded as you ran your fingers down one of the wavy strands of his brown hair.

“Of course. That’s a very kind thing to do,” you said proudly.

DJ trotted a few paces to catch up to RJ and then nudged him gently with his elbow, holding out the apple to him. RJ took it excitedly and thanked him with a broad smile. He took a huge bite and then offered it to Judith, who also happily shared it. Pretty soon the three of them were sharing it like old pals.

Daryl was smiling as he watched the exchanged. “That’s some kid ya’ve got,” he said softly.

“You mean that we’ve got,” you corrected him. “He’s your son, Daryl.”

Daryl gulped and looked down at you, his eyes still a little wide with disbelief. We. You’d said we. He wanted so desperately to read into that and allow his mind to run on with all his foolish hopes… He nudged his nose up in a shy nod and chewed on his bottom lip a moment. A son. He had a son.

The kids ran ahead, chasing after Dog and throwing a stick for him time and time again, until finally Daryl cleared his throat and nodded toward the nearest condo on the end of a small row. “This is me,” he said. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck nervously. “Yer place now too, if ya think it’ll work okay. And ya don’t mind a bit’a dog hair.” It was as if he needed to give you every opportunity to change your mind.

“DJ and I have been sleeping wherever I could find the smallest bit of shelter or safety for quite a while now. We moved every day. This is going to be a huge change for the better. Thank you.” You studied his expression again. “And I don’t mind the dog hair,” you laughed. Dog seemed to have heard you because he came and slipped through the space between your legs, stopping and leaning to one side, rubbing his body against your leg, looking up at you. You laughed and bent to give him neck scratches and he was soon licking your face.

“He likes ya,” Daryl said. There was a smile in his voice. He took that moment and allowed himself to take in the way the afternoon light was illuminating the hues in your eyes as you glanced back up at him and the shine in your hair. He felt like he’d been transported to some alternate dimension—he was so used to struggling to live every day without you and suddenly… here you were. Dog finally darted to the garage door, prancing anxiously on his front paws, and Daryl collected himself enough to go over and push it up. RJ and Judith raced in after Dog, but DJ waited back.

Your eyes went immediately to the bike parked there. “Oh my God,” you said, grinning. The light in your eyes now seemed to be sparking on his behalf as you strode over to it. You shot him a brilliant look and Daryl’s heart skipped a beat and then sped up. “This is amazing. Did you build this?” you asked, touching it here and there.

Daryl brushed a hand back through his hair and shrugged. “Yeah. Aaron, you’ll meet Aaron, he had been collectin’ parts for years before he brought our group in. He didn’t really know what to do with them. First damn thing I did after I was sure Alexandria was gonna be real, safe, was put ‘em to good use.”

DJ was looking at the bike with eager interest and excitement. “You built it? From scrap?” he asked again.

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Yep.”

“Can I have a ride?” he asked excitedly.

Daryl smiled. “Yeah. ‘Course. Uhh—as long as that’s okay with yer mom,” Daryl said, glancing your direction, resting a hand on the handlebar.

“Nobody safer to ride with,” you said, nodding. “As long as you wear a helmet, DJ. But not today. Maybe tomorrow, if the weather is good, alright?” DJ seemed satisfied with that and ran ahead into the condo after Judith and RJ. You glanced over at Daryl again and his eyes were already on you. He was wringing his hands a little anxiously. “Well, when do I get a ride from you again? It’s been a while. Maybe tonight?” Daryl’s mouth dropped slightly open and you laughed nervously when you realized the obvious innuendo. You felt your cheeks flushing. “The bike!” you said in a hurry. “I meant on—” you pressed a hand up to your face and ducked his gaze. Daryl was gulping nervously. “Jesus—I meant on the—” You sighed and laughed again, quite sure that your face was still bright red.

Daryl rubbed a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly, but he was also feeling a heat in his chest like you’d just struck flint and steel to tinder and he too let out a small, awkward laugh. Not to mention that intimate scenes he held dearly deep in his mind were suddenly rushing into the forefront like they’d been called. He could still feel the shape of your hip under his hand like it was just yesterday, or the softness of you as his fingertips dimpled into your skin… He could see the water cascading down your body as he pressed you back against the wall of the shower. He could hear your hurried breathing, the breathy way you used to say his name… The noises of pleasure he’d been able to pull from you. When he couldn’t sleep or when things were just too dark, he’d let his mind wander over those memories, but he had to limit himself. Otherwise, he would have run the risk of living entirely there in that daydream, forgetting the now, and then how would he have kept going, knowing it may be lost forever? And then suddenly you were made real in front of him again. Here. You were right here. Shit. Get it together, man. He refocused his attention on the expectant look on your face. “Uhh—lemme show ya inside,” he drawled.

You bit your bottom lip and followed him in. The kids were all piled on the couch, Dog in front of them, and your heart lifted to see DJ interacting with Jude and RJ so easily. There must have been a smile on your face because Daryl was looking at you with the corners of his eyes crinkled in one too.

“It’s been a long time since he’s been able to be around any other kids, before Hershel, I mean,” you said. The smile faded again and Daryl thought you looked suddenly veiled in sadness briefly.

“C’mon,” he said, tilting his head toward the small hallway. “Bathroom in there,” he said, passing the small room on the right. “Here’s the spare room,” he said. Out of habit he tried to flick on the light and then remembered that the Whisperers had trashed the solar panels and he flicked it back off. “Uhh… sorry. No power back up yet.”

“Haven’t had power in years,” you said. “Won’t even miss it.”

Daryl ruffled his fingers back through his hair again. “We’ll get it back up,” he said with certainty. “‘Til then I got plenty of candles and lanterns and stuff. Remind me before it gets dark. My room is just—” he pointed down the hall to the next door, “right there.”

You leaned on the doorframe next to him and looked in at the little room. A bed. A real bed. “Thanks for this.”

He ducked his head and nodded, shifting nervously beside you. “Yeah. S’nothin’. Dun need to thank me.”

There was a loud squeal from one of the kids and you both moved back to the main room. Dog had jumped on the couch with the three of them and was now laying fully across their laps. You hadn’t seen such a grin on DJ’s face in what felt like a lifetime. You glanced around the room, taking in the space and what Daryl had done to make it his. There were various antlers and pelts around, and the coffee table had a few old books on it, the top one about piracy. “Hmm,” you hummed.

“What?” he asked.

“Nice place you have here. It’s very Daryl,” you said, a small smile curving your lips. “It suits you. Though maybe a cabin in the woods would still suit you better.”

Daryl’s stomach suddenly clenched. A cabin in the woods. Fuck. He had to tell you. He had to figure out how the fuck to tell you…

“What do you think?” you asked him, and Daryl suddenly realized you must have been talking to him.

“Sorry, what?”

“Think the kids would be okay here on their own for a while so we can go try and find some food for everyone?”

He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, and we can ask Rosita and Gabe to look in on ‘em.”

Your face brightened. “Please, let’s go see Rosita.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, course. And—Gabriel ain’t the same anymore,” Daryl said. “He’s turned out to be real good to have around.”

You shook your head and let out a laugh of disbelief. “You remember what I said when he finally got down off that rock?”

Daryl snorted out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Ya asked if we could put him back.” You laughed again more earnestly.

“And—him and Rosita? Really? I mean, Maggie told me but it’s still hard to wrap my brain around…”

Daryl laughed again, fiddling anxiously with a rock on the side table. “I think that took all of us by surprise at first,” Daryl drawled. “But—” he shrugged. “They do seem to be doin’ good together. C’mon. Let’s get goin’ while we still got daylight.” He stepped farther into the room and managed to grab the kids’ attention. “Hey—Jude. Yer the oldest, so yer in charge, alrigh’? We’re just gonna go see about some dinner, okay? If we ain’t back when it’s startin’ to get dark, ya go to Aunt Rosita’s or find Uncle Jerry and Aunt Nabila at their place, okay? And keep away from that part of the wall tha’s down. I mean it. Ya can show DJ around, but I don’t want ya over there.”

Jude nodded and agreed. “Okay.”

“Dog, get down,” Daryl said, and the Malinois jumped back onto the rug. Daryl hugged Jude and ruffled RJ’s hair. Then he held a fist out to DJ, who eagerly bumped it with his own and grinned. Daryl knelt down so he was at their eye level again. “We’ll be back just as soon as we can, alrigh’? Ya’ll be good and stay safe. Jude, ya got yer sword? Good. You and DJ, watch out for RJ.”

Your heart felt like it grew three sizes just watching him reassuring the kids and making sure that everyone was alright for you both to leave. “We’ll try not to be too long,” you said, and you went and grabbed each of them in a hug, leaving a kiss on the top of DJ’s head too. “Keep your bow with you,” you told him. “Good. See you soon, hopefully with some dinner.”

The reunion with Rosita was emotional, and you cooed over baby Coco with her and lamented the loss of Siddiq when she told you what had happened in brief. By the time you were heading back to Daryl’s to grab his bike and head out, you agreed that Gabriel was an entirely different person than he had been when you’d known him. “Gotta admit… the eye and still wearing the stuffy outfit—it’s definitely a look,” you said, walking back beside Daryl.

He let out a small laugh and glanced over at you. “Like I said, he ain’t the same.” He strapped his crossbow onto the bike and slung his leg over, standing up so you could slip on behind him. Nervous flutters were already rising before you even climbed on, and when your hands finally settled lightly on his sides, he felt like his body temp rose a hundred degrees. He did his best not to stiffen with nerves and settled down on the seat. “Ain’t sure what we’ll find out there,” he said. “Those assholes brought a horde through ‘round here. Scared off most of the game.”

Your arms looped around him more fully and he gulped again. “Fish probably didn’t run away. Neither did the plants and fungi. We’ll find something,” you said ardently. “We always find something.”

Daryl started his bike and, for a brief moment, thought he felt your cheek press to the back of his shoulder. “Ya ready?”

“Hell yeah!” you yelled over the engine, and he could hear the smile in your voice.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Having any luck?” you asked Daryl as you approached from out of the woods nearby again, a canvas bag that now seemed rather full clutched in your hand.

“Mhm… Carp. Gonna taste like mud,” he said, nodding to the huge fish lying on the grass beside him. “But they’re definitely better than nothin’. You?”

“Yeah. Found a good haul of mushrooms—chantarelles, oyster mushrooms, chicken of the woods. And a bunch of edible plants. Ramps?” you held up a clump of something from your bag.

“Uhhh—am I s’posed to know what the hell yer talkin’ about?”

You laughed heartily and Daryl’s heart skipped a beat, as it seemed to do damn near every time you did anything. “Ramps!” you said again. “They’re a wild onion. Taste kind of like a cross between garlic and scallions.”

“Hmm,” Daryl nod, turning his attention back to the river and shooting an arrow into the now writhing form of a dark fish. “Learn somethin’ new ev’ry day. I think I always just called them wild onions. No need to be fancy about it,” he teased you, grabbing his arrow and the impaled fish with it.

You gave him a look and then turned your eyes back to the pile of large fish on the bank. “I think we have enough here for quite a bit soup. We’ll be able to feed some hungry kids tonight.”

Daryl retrieved his arrow and grabbed a bag for the fish from his pack. “Tha’s what it’s all about,” he said.

You spun around as you heard a twig snap somewhere behind you in the trees. Daryl stood and grabbed his bow again, immediately on edge, and paced several steps forward in the soft grass until he was slightly in front of you. It was a protective instinct he’d always had… even now it came back like old muscle memory.

The snap of the dry wood was soon followed by a growing growl sound and the two of you both breathed sighs of relief. “Goddamn walker. Tha’s all,” he drawled.

“Yeah,” you agreed, though the worry didn’t leave your face completely. Daryl was again sharply aware that you’d been through some very serious shit very recently, shit he didn’t yet know the full extent of. “We should get back. It’s going to start getting dark soon.”

“Yeah. I was just thinkin’ the same thing.” Daryl unsheathed his knife and advanced on the scrawny and emaciated looking rotter ambling toward the two of you. He lunged with a perfectly placed strike and sunk his blade into its head. It crumpled to the leaf litter and laid still.

The two of you strode back toward his bike, side by side, and you glanced over at him when you felt his eyes on you. “Hmm?” you prompted him, adjusting your hold on the foraging bag stuffed full of ingredients over your shoulder.

He shrugged and looked back down toward where he was placing his boots. “Will ya tell me—uhh… ‘bout when he was born? I mean—where were ya and—guess I just wanna know ‘bout it all,” he said.

Your expression was soft as you looked back at him and Daryl relaxed some. “Yeah, of course. Daryl, you can ask me anything you want to about DJ. Really about anything. Ask me anything about anything,” you laughed. “I’ll do my best to answer. Oh—and remind me to show you the book when the kids are in bed tonight.”

“The book?”

You nodded. “Yeah. The book.”

He nodded, intrigued. “Alrigh’.”

You sighed, looking ahead and taking in the way the light was filtering through the leaves still clinging to the craggy oak branches. “When DJ was born, I was still in Georgia. You remember how I said people just were finding me or I was finding them?” Daryl nodded. “I had been trying to scavenge supplies from this huge department store, get ready for the baby and find some more vitamins and stuff. I thought there was a good chance there were supplies left inside because the parking area had been some kind of military checkpoint or something and the whole thing had these huge fences chain link fences topped with razor wire. I hadn’t seen any walkers in there… I found some fence cutters and made a way inside. Pried a door open and got into the building. I was right. There were supplies in there,” you laughed dryly. “But the reason I hadn’t seen any walkers was because there were people living inside.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed heavily.

“I was lucky—very lucky. They turned out to be good people, just a small group of survivors. A found family. They saw, immediately of course, that I was pregnant and one of them happened to be a midwife. They were all with me when I went into labor. We had left the store by then. There were getting to be too many dead in the suburbs and we’d headed away from the populated areas. We took a Jeep and a truck full of supplies and found this farmhouse and set up there for the winter. It reminded a little of Hershel’s farm. We had a decent stock of supplies and I had everything I needed for the baby but I was still terrified of course… especially after what happened to Lori. But everything went smoothly and after an excruciating 14 hours of labor, I delivered a healthy baby boy and named him Daryl as soon as I saw him.” Tears brimmed in your eyes as you looked over at him again. Your voice was soft and breathy when you spoke again and you’d had to fight to get the words out. “I wish you were there,” you said. “I wished that more than anything at the time and still. He was just this tiny little thing, all wiry arms and legs.” You sniffled and tried to pull yourself back together. “For a birth in the apocalypse, I was very lucky,” you said with a dry laugh.

You walked in silence for a while, each of you sinking into your own thoughts, but Daryl finally broke it again. “Those people—were any of ‘em still with ya when—were any of them with ya when yer community was attacked?”

The weight of it settled back over you and you nodded. “Yeah. Two of them were.” The only sound was the soft noise of the damp earth and leaf litter beneath your boots.

“‘M sorry,” Daryl drawled. “We’ve all lost a lotta people over the years, but I ain’t never lost everybody all at once like ya have. Not really. I mean, it felt that way when the prison fell, but I knew there were more of us out there. I knew you were out there, somehow.”

The muscle in your jaw tensed and you nodded, looking up again at the last bit of afternoon light waning against the tops of the trees. In a moment, the tension on your face seemed to pass and you glanced back over at him. “We’ve all lost people. Who’s to say what’s better or worse?”

On the ride back to Alexandria, Daryl swore you held on even more tightly to him than you had on the way out, and he knew he wasn’t imagining that you were leaning into him.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The fish and foraged ingredients had made a huge pot of soup, enough to feed all the kids in Alexandria and a good many adults too. Everyone’s mood was jovial with a full stomach as you sat around the little table with Daryl and the kids. It wasn’t lost on you that DJ and Daryl ate exactly the same; ravenously, unabashedly, and frequently using their sleeves as napkins. It had you smiling through most of the meal. Daryl had caught you staring at him once.

“What?” he prompted you, hurriedly wiping a sleeve across his mouth as if he thought he had food stuck there.

You smiled and shook your head. “Nothing.”

You’d tried to convince Carol to come for dinner but she’d insisted she didn’t want to intrude on your first night back. She gladly accepted some of the soup though, and you’d made her promise to come find you the next day. Now, you and Daryl were telling Judith, RJ, and DJ old stories and regularly cracking them up into fits of giggles. Dog was happily chewing a scavenged deer bone on the rug.

“Hey, what ‘bout that time,” Daryl had to pause and let out a gruff laugh, pointing at you. “‘Member, ya flipped the bird at that squatter? And then—”

“Alright!” you said standing up hurriedly, and cutting him off on purpose. “I think they can hear the rest of that story when they’re all older! Kids, help me clear the table please,” you said, grabbing Daryl’s plate and shooting him a look. His blue eyes were smiling and they followed you all the way into the kitchen as he leaned back in his chair.

Judith and RJ wanted to stay the night since they hadn’t seen their Uncle Daryl in so long (and you were definitely an added bonus) so you helped him set up bed rolls for them on the floor in his room before tucking DJ in in your own bed down the hall. You stroked his hair away from his face and kissed his forehead.

“Mom,” he started, yawning and sinking more deeply into his pillow.

“Mhm?”

“I think I really like this place. And… it’s nice to be around other kids again. This feels like a family,” he said and you nodded in agreement, smiling serenely.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“So… can we stay?” he asked.

“What do I always say?”

“‘We can stay as long as we can stay’,” he recited.