#ain’t nothing more wholesome than raising a kid with your best friend

[stevesaxetogrind]

One of these days I’ll write the perfect “married for tax benefits & being able to be one another’s medical contact” stobin fic

Lavender marriage stobin hits so good.

[illicitlimerence-writes]

boys have cooties │ t. holland

pairing: middle school teacher!tom holland x middle school teacher!fem!reader warnings: like two or three curse words, kids, overall it's pretty much fluff. maybe some spelling mistakes. word count: 2k a/n: hi, hello. english isn't my first language, so please be kind. this is the first thing i've written in so long so i'm sorry if this sucks. gif ain't mine, creds to the owner!

"mr holland?" "yes, my friend?" he said, crouching so he could be eye level with little natalie. "do you have a girlfriend?" she asked, her pretty green eyes shining brightly. his mind immediately went to the gorgeous (y/e/c)-eyed girl who owned his heart.

"why do you ask that, friend?" he pulled a chair from the table next to him and sat in front of her. he watched as an adorable frown set on her face, cheeks flushing.

"yesterday i was playing in my room and my sissy was watching a movie with a boy. i wanted to watch tangled so i went to the living room and she was kissing him!" she said, banging her hands on the table as if it was the most scandalous thing she'd ever seen.

"really? and what did you do?" he asked, biting his lips and trying his hardest not to grin at the wholesomeness of it all.

"i screamed, and she was really mean, she told me to go to my room and leave her and her boyfriend alone. do boyfriends and girlfriends make you mean?"

"well, no. a boyfriend or girlfriend is supposed to bring out the best of you. i believe what happened was that maybe she was maybe a bit embarrassed about you seeing them together," he explained as carefully as he could to the six-year-old. he loved teaching little kids, but there were times like this when he had to try to put into simple words something as abstract as the concept of love and relationships. he wouldn't change it for the world, though. there was nothing like seeing the mesmerized expressions on each of their faces when they discovered something new together.

"okay. but i don't think i will ever have a boyfriend. because boys have cooties and germs." she said confidently. he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped from his lips. little natalie pressed her hand against her mouth, giggling as if she'd just said the funniest thing in the world.

"natalie! boys don't have cooties." he tried to stop her from laughing, but her giggles only got louder.

"yes they do!" she continued laughing, only stopped when they heard a knock on the door. you walked in, in all your beautiful glory.

"hey ba-buuuddy," you played it cool when you noticed the small child sitting in front of Tom.

"hi, miss y/l/n!" natalie greeted you cheerfully. you gave them both a bright smile, "can you tell mr. holland that i'm right?"

"she's right," you said immediately, winking at her.

"so you agree that boys have cooties?" tom asked, lifting his eyebrows. you grabbed a chair and sat next to him, and grabbed his hand under the table. he interlocked his fingers with yours, squeezing them.

"duh! obviously!" you nodded, which only made the six-year-old to laugh even louder.

"i told you!" she said, pointing a finger at tom. you looked at him, scrunching your nose as you smiled.

"so does that mean i have cooties?" tom asked, his eyes darting between his young student and you.

"no!"

"yes!" you and natalie said at the same time. while the young girl denied it, you played along and accused your perfect boyfriend of having the childish disease.

tom stared at you with his mouth in a perfect o. the six-year-old's laugh could now be heard from outside of the room.

"i'm offended," tom said as he placed a hand on his chest, you chuckled and winked at him.

you were about to make another snarky comment when the loud bell rang, signaling the end of recess.

"saved by the bell," you said dropping his hand and standing up. tom's students began rushing into the room, surprised to see you there.

"miss y/l/n!" the kids cheered.

while tom preferred the joy of teaching new things to the littlest, you enjoyed the challenge of the eldest. your young age was definitely an advantage you had when it came to teaching. you knew the stress and anxiety that school could cause some of the kids and were always flexible with your assignments and your way of teaching. now on your third year as a teacher, you'd heard kids saying they could not wait until they reached fifth grade so they could have you as their teacher. it was safe to say everyone at school loved you. always kind, always giving the best advice, always having the best snacks.

"oh, my goodness! i am never leaving this classroom, you are the cutest little things in the entire world!" you said as they ran to you and hugged your legs.

"go away y/n, they're my kids," tom said faking hurt when he saw the lovestruck expression on the little ones' faces, but his heart fluttered when he saw how they loved you as much as he did.

"i think they love me more than they love you, tommy-boy," you said, a cheeky grin on your lips. he wanted nothing more than to kiss you senseless. but instead, he gasped, eyes widening as he looked around at the kids, some laughing, some ran to tom and hugged his legs as well, meanwhile the others stayed by your side and held you tighter.

"i've been betrayed, and by my own younglings." he dramatically fell to his knees and all the kids rushed to his side, saying how they loved him as much as they loved you.

"no!"

"we love you too, mr. holland!"

"i like miss y/n better."

"you two are my favorite teachers!" loud screeching filled the room, making you laugh.

"okay, kids. go show mr. holland your love, i've gotta go deal with my own munchkins. it was lovely to see you today, remember to drink water, make good choices and listen to tommy-boy here," you ruffled some heads and high-fived hands as you walked backward toward the door.

"alright everybody, let's thank miss y/l/n for stopping by. say goodbye and settle down," tom switched into teacher mode, and you felt the familiar butterflies fluttering in your stomach when you saw him rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. biting your lip, you sent him a small wink as a new wave of voices filled the room.

"bye, miss y/l/n!"

"i love you!"

"come back soon!"

"can i go with you?"

"have a nice day!" you smiled and waved at them. giving tom a small nod and a knowing look, you rushed to your classroom at the end of the hall.

you loved your kids, messy and loud and moody.

when you walked into your room you saw most of them sitting and chatting with their own small cliques, but when they heard the sound of your shoes approaching some of them turned their heads to see you.

immediately, the loud voices filled the room.

"where were you?"

"can we watch a movie?"

"i need to use the restroom!"

"you're late!"

"yes, you can go to the restroom. no, we're not waching a movie today. yes, i know i'm late. i was in mr. holland's classroom visiting my favorite kids in the entire school" you answered, lifting an eyebrow and laughing when you saw their reactions.

"hey!"

"not cool!"

"i like him better anyways"

you continued to laugh as you moved your hands, finally getting them to quiet down.

"that, ladies and gents, was a joke. i was kidding. i wouldn't trade my babies for anything in the world" you said as you sat on your desk, folding your legs underneath you.

"miss y/l/n?" a girl raised her arm, you looked up

"yes, alice?"

"i saw you and mr. holland in the morning, you were holding hands." she said, cheeky grin on her face.

"oooooohhhh, miss y/l/n has a boyfriend!" shouting began again. you tried your hardest to suppress the smile that was threatening to settle on your face. instead you bit your lip hard.

"you woke up and chose violence today, alice," you admitted, making them all laugh. "mr. holland and i are just friends, my babies." you said, knowing how they hated when you called them that. "now, we've already lost too much time, let's get to work. everybody take out your books and-"

-------

at the end of the school day, you stayed behind sorting through papers and planning your classes for next week. when you finished, you put your things away, grabbing some papers you needed to grade and putting them in your bag. a knock on the door grabbed your attention.

"hey, baby," you greeted tom. he walked to you, threw his arm around your neck and pressed a kiss on the side of your temple.

"you ready, darling?" he asked, taking your bag from you with his right hand and grabbing your own with his left one. you nodded, lifting your joined hands and kissing his knuckles. you noticed the way his cheeks flushed pink. and it warmed your heart knowing even the simple gestures still made sparks fly between you two after years of being together.

"yes, mr. holland," you teased, locking the door behind you, interlocking your fingers with his again.

"took me a while to quiet them down after your visit, wouldn't stop talking about you," he squeezed your hand, making you grin.

"oh, you should've heard my kids. alice saw us holding hands in the morning. they think you're my boyfriend." you lifted an eyebrow. letting go of his hand when you reached his range rover. the parking lot was now empty. he opened the door for you, you climbed in the passenger seat as he put your handbag and his own backpack in the backseat.

"really?" he asked, you hummed in response. you moved so you were facing him standing outside. he placed his hands on your thighs, your hands immediately finding his. "if they only knew..." he said, letting go of one of your hands, his fingers traveled to your neck, under the collar of your shirt, and toyed with the delicate gold chain around your skin. he lifted the chain, a sparkly diamond ring sitting there like a charm.

"if they only knew..." you repeated his words, hands traveling to his face, cupping his cheeks. your thumb played with lips and he moved his head to kiss it.

"when do you think we should tell them?" he asked, leaning down, resting his forehead against yours, noses brushing together.

"i don't know. they're gonna lose their shit when they find out," you chuckled, earning one from him as well. "we'll have to tell them before the wedding, though. otherwise, my kids will feel betrayed. they're already mad because i told them i'll be gone for a month."

"but it'll be during the summer holidays," he frowned, a beautiful smile forming on his lips.

"i know, that's what i said. apparently, they still think i live in the school." you shook your head, laughing.

"i can't wait until we have our own little ones," he admitted, hiding his face on your neck, fingers still playing with the ring that he gave you almost a year ago on your two-year anniversary. you smiled, your arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

"me neither, then they'll really lose their shit. can you imagine?" you giggled as you felt his warm breath hit your sensitive skin behind your ear.

"i love you so much." he said, pressing small kisses on your neck, traveling up to your jaw, your cheek, and finally your lips. your thumbs tracing invisible circles on his cheek as his lips met yours.

"i love you, too. so, so much." your hands moved to his hair, fingers running through soft curls. "now, take me home, mr. holland. your fiance is getting hungry." you both chuckled, hands finally letting of eachother, you settled in your seat as he gave your lips a small peck before closing your door.

"how's mcdonald's sound?" he asked when he climbed in the driver's seat, starting the car. like magnets, your hands met halfway and you rested your arms on the console between you two.

"with you, everything sounds perfect." you admitted, meeting his bright brown eyes that seemed to sparkle when he heard the words you spoke. he lifted your joined hands and kissed your knuckles, once, twice. all the way until forever.

[thisstableground]

I know you've done this before (and I loved it) but I would LOVE some "Abuela Claudia and the barrio kids" wholesome content ^^ Especially with characters like Benny or Vanessa, or Carla and the Rosarios - basically, Abuela Claudia being awesome and crazy big-hearted.

[Under a cut because as always, this got carried away. edit: now also on ao3, please leave a comment if you like it! Content warning for parental neglect.]

***

The only instructions Naomi Garcia gives, when she dropsVanessa off at Claudia’s is, “she’s got a coloring book, she can pretty muchjust look after herself. Do not takeher to the Rosarios. I’ll pick her up on Sunday.”

Vanessa stands there mutely, in her pink backpack andsmudgy-kneed overalls and, despite the mid-April warmth, a woolly winter hatwith a bobble on. She’s clutching her coloring book like she’s ready to beatsomeone to death with it. Claudia gives her an encouraging smile as her momleaves and says, “it’s good to have you here, Vanessa!”

“I ain’t see why I can’t go play with Nina just ‘cause ourmoms is fighting about dumb boring mom stuff,” Vanessa says, scowling. “I’mstill gonna be friends with her no matter what they say.”

She gives Claudia a challenging look, as if to say, and you aren’t going to stop me. Claudiajust says, “¡Bueno! So what do you want to do today?”

“I want to go to Nina’s.”

It’s going to be along weekend, Claudia thinks.

Much as Claudia agrees with Vanessa that a fight betweenparents shouldn’t get in the way of children’s friendship, she’s loathe to directlyignore one of the few direct instructions given by Vanessa’s mom. On realizingshe isn’t going to get her way, Vanessa slouches off to a corner of the livingroom floor and quietly colors in while Claudia goes about her usual morningcleaning, feeling faintly stumped.

This is so strange in comparison to Usnavi, who always thunders right in as though he owns the place, or Nina who always stays firmly by Claudia’s side the entire time she’s there.From the time she’s spent with both Nina and Vanessatogether, Claudia knows that Vanessa is a very headstrong young lady, usually farmore boisterous than this – bossy, even, always taking the lead while Ninafollows her around admiringly. But on her own, Vanessa is silent, hidden downbehind the side of the couch and only speaking up to say “no, I’m fine” whenever Claudiaoffers her a drink or asks if she wants to watch la television.

Her short, terse answers are bordering on what might becalled rude, but when Claudia asks if Vanessa’s hungry and Vanessa hesitates,looking hunted for a long moment before ducking her head back down very close to thepage, scribbling intensely without giving an answer, she realizes that perhapsVanessa is shy. It has, after all,been many years since Claudia looked after her alone without Nina there too,not since the girls were toddlers, and it is much easier to be brave and bossywith a good friend there.

“I haven’t had my breakfast today,” Claudia lies. “I wasgoing to get myself some food, if you wanted to share?”

“…I guess maybe I’m a littlebit hungry,” Vanessa concedes.

“We will make something together, then.” Claudia says, thenspots all the felt tip pen smudges on Vanessa’s hands, and the dirt under herbitten-short fingernails, and adds as they walk to the kitchen, “but first noslaveremos las manos.”

She pushes a chair up next to the kitchen sink so that Vanessacan reach. Vanessa sticks her hands quickly under the water then wipes them offon her overalls, still inkstained and dirty.

“No, no, con jabón.” Claudia rinses her own hands andlathers the bar of soap between them, more thoroughly than she usually would sothat Vanessa can see what she’s doing. “Like this, see?”

“I know!” Vanessasnaps, but she watches Claudia and copies carefully anyway, every movementmimicked exactly.

When she’s done, Claudia moves the chair over to the counterfor her, sets a cutting board and knife down ready, then rummages through thedisorganized cupboards looking past long-expired half-empty jars of pickles andsauces and preserves for the ingredients she needs. She really needs to tidy upin here but somehow it’s so hard to bring herself to throw anything away. “Ay, ¿dónde está?I’m sure I had una cebolla here somewhere…”

“What we makin’?” Vanessa asks, climbing up onto the chair.She picks up the knife and examines it, sharp end very close to herface. Claudia swiftly takes it out of her hands. “Hey!”

“We’re having arroz con pollo.” Claudia puts theknife safely out of Vanessa’s reach and finally locates an onion nestled inwith the bananas and mango in the fruit bowl.

“I usually have peanut butter jelly sandwiches,” Vanessa tellsher. “They’re easiest to make.”

“You make your own lunch?”

“Uh-huh! I do it all the time when Mommy isn’t home.”

“Oh, vaya, that’s very grown up.”

Vanessa beams proudly and Claudia smiles at her, but in herheart she didn’t mean that as a compliment: Vanessa has barely been six for amonth. She’s so young to be spending any time at home alone, never mind feedingherself while she’s there. Perhaps it would have been less surprising back in Claudia’sday when children were far more independent far younger, but Claudia thinks thatthere are many things in her day that she’s glad have gone out of fashion now.

But she says nothing of it, only shows Vanessa how tomeasure out enough rice and rinse it so that it doesn’t all stick together whenit cooking, lets her open the little glass jars of spices and sniff each ofthem individually. Vanessa follows along with an unexpected focus, likeshe’s trying to memorize every instruction for herself.

With the air conditioning barely functioning as ever,Claudia’s apartment is small and stuffy, especially on a day like this. By thetime the pot is full and bubbling away on the stove and it’s time to clean up,Vanessa’s cheeks are bright pink from the heat.

Claudia says, “aquí, why don’t you take that hat off,” andwith the unconscious familiarity she’d show for Usnavi or Nina, plucks thebobble hat off Vanessa’s head. 

Vanessa shrieks, and Claudia sees instantly thatshe isn’t wearing it just out of one of those odd childish whims like she’dassumed: her hair is an absolute rat’s nest, not just messy fromplaying but hopelessly tangled and sweaty like it hasn’t been washed or brushedin weeks.

“No! Give it back!” Vanessa shouts. She stamps her foot onthe chair and leans over on tiptoes making a grab for the hat. Hurriedly, Claudiahands it back before she overbalances and lands right on the stove. In asplit-second Vanessa has jammed it back on her head, jumped to the ground and boltedout of the kitchen, the door to Claudia’s bedroom slamming shortly after. WhenClaudia follows and knocks on the door, she yells, “go away! Leave me alone!”

Claudia taps her fingers against the doorframe and pursesher lips. Dealing with Vanessa, she thinks, is very, very different fromdealing with the children she’s used to. If Nina has ever raised her voice inher life than Claudia wasn’t there to see it. Usnavi wouldn’t even think to beembarrassed about something like messy hair in the first place: the boy wouldbe a walking mud puddle if his parents didn’t intervene.

Hm. Maybe that’s a point. She leaves Vanessa to calm down onher own while she goes to call Camila and find out exactly why it is that Naomidoesn’t want Vanessa going to visit.

The second she mentions Naomi’s name, Camila makes asquawkingly aggravated noise down the phone and says, “ay, do not get me started on that woman. Shesends her daughter round here practically every day and we feed her and look after her forfree and what thanks do we get? She should learn to take good advice when she’sgiven it.”

“What kind of advice?” Claudia asks, and then because sheknows Camila very well, “and how did you give it?”

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking, Claudia, but it wasjustified. I see enough of what goes on there to know that she isn’t fit to be a mother. It’sno wonder the girl is growing up half-wild.”

“Camila!” Claudiascolds. “No es justo, Naomi is still very young herself, she is only trying herbest with what she’s got.”

“Ha! If that’s what you call trying I’d hate to see what happens when she stops. The amount of times Vanessa’s complained about having aheadache here because nobody ever taught her you need to drink water and eatduring the day? El otro díashe says she can’t pick Vanessa up from our place so ‘just let her walkhome by herself’! I ask you, at herage? In this neighborhood? And then I try to talk to Naomi about it and shecalls me interfering!”

Claudia makes a sympathetic tsk noise.

“She might have been young when she had her but she’s anadult now, she has responsibilities,” Camila says firmly. “If she’d rather haveher own pride than listen to me, well, I wash my hands of the whole thing.”

It’s all very well tosay that from the outside, Claudia thinks as she hangs up, as much toherself as to Camila. She’s always felt for Naomi, who moved here with nothingbut a teenage pregnancy and that waste of space she called a husband - what aman of his age was doing with a girl barely out of childhood herself,honestamente – and whose fierce pride and broken heart and sharp temper made it very, very hardto get along with her for very long. But as young as Naomi is, Vanessa’s even younger and wheredoes all of this leave her, this odd, stubborn half-wild half-adult child, whoalready makes her own lunch and walks herself home from school the days hermother forgets to pick her up but was never taught how to wash her hands orbrush her own hair properly?

The bedroom door is still closed when Claudia returns to it.She knocks but lets herself in without waiting for an answer. Vanessa issitting on the floor by the bed hugging her knees, looking furious and ashamed.With some difficulty because her knees aren’t what they used to be, Claudiasits on the floor beside her.

“Don’t want it brushed,” Vanessa mutters sullenly, andscuffs her fingertips against the floor, picking at the fake wood-effectlinoleum.

“¿Por qué no?”

“Mommy used to brush it and she always pulls too hard, and Isaid ow and she told me to stop beinga baby but then I told her it hurts and she got mad and said if I know so muchabout everything I can just do it by myself.” Vanessa gives a heavy, put-uponsigh. “And I tried but it’s too tangly.Anyhow, it’s just hair. Why’s it matter if it’s messy?

“Because if you leave it like that then eventually birdswill start living in it.”

Obstinately, Vanessa says, “maybe I want birds to live in it.”

“Perhaps you do,” Claudia says, “but then they will sing allday and wake you up so, so early en la mañana.”

She makes cheepy bird noises, her fingers tapping against her thumbs like little cawing beaks all around Vanessa’s ears until Vanessastarts laughing then immediately looks outraged about it.

“Can I try to help? I promise not to pull it,” Claudiaswears. Vanessa gives her a suspicious look but then relents and takes the hatoff. It looks even worse up close. Claudia does her best not to react but Vanessaseems to have picked up on it because she bunches her shoulders up so high theyalmost hit her ears and stays like until Claudia tries togently finger-comb it out. She barely touches her before Vanessa hisses andgoes “owww!” in a high-pitched whine.

“Lo siento,” Claudia says, though she knows it couldn’treally have hurt.

“I told you, it’s too tangly,” Vanessa says, with an edge toher voice that means I am on the verge ofhysteria. “I already tried to brush it but it won’t work!”

“What if we call the ladies at the salon and ask what theythink? Daniela will know how to fix it, I’m sure.”

“She’ll laugh at me.”

“I’ll tell her off if she does.”

That makes Vanessa pause. “You’d tell Dani off?”

“Believe it or not, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

Vanessa says, “don’t tell her it’s about me?”, something sopitiful and pleading about it that Claudia wants to hug her. She resists theurge and says, “our secret” and with Vanessa’s nod of permission, calls up thesalon.

“I have a very young friend here with very tangly hair,” sheinforms Dani. “Un cepillo will not work. ¿Qué hacemos?

Dani says, “I told Rosa that next time Usnavi gets gum stuckin it she should just bring him here straight away.”

“No, not Usnavi. And nothing is stuck, it is just…ah, descuidado.”

“Oh,” Dani says, suddenly serious and sighing. “It’s Vanessa,isn’t it?”

Claudia makes a noncommittal sound: Dani is closest of allof them to Naomi, and she suspects probably could give her more of an insightinto the Garcia family than anyone, but she did make a promise. There’s a mufflednoise of Dani covering the handset and talking to someone for a second and thenshe says, “Carla says to work a lot of conditioner into it and comb it through,starting at the bottom.”

“Will that work?”

“It’s worked before for some little problemas,” Dani says.“But if her hair’s that bad it might take more time than it’s worth.  Sometimes the only thing to do really is to cutit all off and start again. Do you want to bring her in and we’ll have a lookand see how much we can salvage? Sin cargo.”

“No, no, we’ll try the conditioner first, gracias. Give Carlamy love.” Claudia isn’t going to make Vanessa go and have all her hair cut off ifshe can help it. And so they eat their arroz con pollo then afterwards, she gathers everything and has Vanessa sit on a kitchen chairwith a towel round her shoulders, and gets to work with a comb and a bottle ofconditioner. She does her best to keep up chatter to cheer up a morose-lookingVanessa, but with very little in the way of responses and such a long taskahead, Claudia eventually just concentrates on what she’s doing, making slow,slow progress.

After about ten minutes, there’s a quiet sniff from thelittle figure in the chair, and then another one. Claudia stops what she’sdoing and leans round to see that Vanessa looks seconds away from crying. “¿Esto duele?”

“No,” Vanessa mumbles.

“What’s wrong?

Vanessa just shakes her head, staring at the floor with acrumpled brow and tears in her eyes, and though it may be overfamiliar, Claudia’syears of instinct immediately demand that she pull Vanessa into a tight hug –how could she possibly do anything else? With no noise but one tiny, miserable whimper of breath, Vanessastarts crying silently but hard, face against Claudia’s shoulder.

“Ah, pobrecita, I know,” Claudia murmurs, strokes Vanessa’shair as best she can, her hand sliding over the gloss of conditioner. She mightnot know Vanessa quite as well as some of her other children but one thingshe’s certain is that she’s a proud, independent little thing. This must bemortifying for her. There seems no good way to say to her that it isn’t herfault, that there are many small but crucial things in life that she should be taught to do, not left alone to figure out, and that this is probably only one of many. Telling her that won’t fix anything. But it does remind Claudia of a far-off and absurd memory. Shemoves Vanessa off her shoulder, still holding her by the arms and says, “when Iwas una niñita, we used to curl our hair withstrips of newspaper.”

Vanessa frowns at her. She’s already stopped crying, wipingher face on the towel round her neck. “Huh?”

“You’d take  un pedazo de periódico  in your hand and put yourhair around it like this – “ she makes a wrapping motion in the air, “and leaveit to dry en la noche, and you wake up with beautiful curls. My mama used to doit for me, but one day when I was a little older than you, she was not feelingwell and so I tried to do it myself. I thought, it cannot be so hard, if shedoes it all the time, and so I wrapped all my hair in newspaper and I went tobed, and you know what?”

“What?”

“It looked terrible,”she says. “At the front, too many curls, like the wig of a clown! But at theback, where I could not reach properly, all the paper had come out and so itwas not curled at all. Can you imagine?” She gestures down her back as thoughlong straight locks are still there, then holds her hands up at the frontmimicking the explosion of badly-curled ringlets.

Vanessa giggles at the image. “That sounds silly.”

“It was,” Claudia confirms. “And in those days we did nothave a shower and so I couldn’t wash it out so easily. I tried to get it wetand make it lie flat but it only made it look worse, and because Mama was sick Ihad to go out and run all the errands with my hair so crazy.”

“Oh noooo,” Vanessa says, hands over her mouth, utterly invested in the story. “What didyou do?”

“Well, first I cried very, very hard,”Claudia says,remembering it with a smile because it seems like such a small thing to be so upset over now. “And I wore una bufanda  around my head, because I thought everyonewould laugh at me. And even when I went in to see my Mama in bed I wore labufanda because I was so embarrassed that i did it so wrong. And she did laugh,when I told her what had happened, but then when she was better she showed mehow to do it right, and I still curl my hair that way to this day.” She patsher neat, pinned-back rolls of rapidly-greying curls.

“My mommy wouldn’t do that,” Vanessa says. “She’d just getmad at me for doing it wrong.”

“Maybe,” Claudia says, because it seems even harsher to lie about it, “but I neverwould, if you ever need somebody to tell you how to fix a problem. It’s okay if youget it wrong for a while. Many things take a lot of practice and a lot ofpatience.”

Vanessa mulls it over, then gives a very solemn nod and sniffs hard one lasttime. “Okay. We can carry on now.”

Daniela was right: the whole process takes well over anhour, and they have to move to the couch so that Claudia can sit down halfwaythrough, but what of it? Claudia’s got plenty of time to spare in herretirement and, she reflects a little sadly, it has probably been a long, longwhile since anyone paid Vanessa this much attention.

All worth it in the end, when she announces that they arefinished, and Vanessa touches her own hair with her eyes lighting up. “You didit!” she gasps, as though Claudia had performed a miracle. “You fixed it!”

“We still need to rinse all the conditioner out.” Claudiahesitates about that: if it were Usnavi or Nina she’d simply throw them in the tub. They’re both getting old enough to be left unsupervised for short moments when they’re in there, but thedoor is always open, and she always calls reminders to not forget to wash theirfaces and scrub under their nails. They still need help rinsing out shampoo andclimbing out of the bath. Both of them still let her rub one of her oldfaded-pink towels thoroughly over their hair to dry it, and they still play thegame where she covers their whole faces with it and puts her hand therepretending she is going to scrub away their face just as roughly while theyshriek in pretend-fear and yell “no, Abuela!”. They’re getting too old for suchthings, but what are abuelas for if not to baby the grandchildren? They allknow that these moments are not forever, and why not hold onto childhood justas long as possible?

But Vanessa probably won’t allow anything like that, alreadyso clearly ashamed of the things about her that speak to the age she really is,and she’s already had enough embarrassment for the day. Claudia spares her thediscomfort of asking, instead rinsing her hair tipped upside down over thekitchen sink the way Claudia’s mama used to do for her so many years ago: cleanit all off with warm water and then one last jugful of cold to finish. Vanessa hollersloudly at the shock of cool water, but she laughs about it right afterwards.

Later in the living room, when Claudia is reading thenewspaper and Vanessa is lying on her belly on the floor with her felt tips,there’s the sound of ripping paper, very slow and quiet like she’s trying notto be heard. Claudia looks up to see Vanessa with a strip torn out of hercoloring book, trying to tie it in a knot around her still-damp hair.

She looks sheepish when she sees Claudia watching. “I want it allcurly,” she explains. Her hair uncoils itself from around thebadly-wrapped strip of paper.

“Would you like me to teach you how?”

“You don’t gotta.”

“I would like to.”

Vanessa hmms, and says, “only if you don’t make it go allcrazy at the front, then.”

“I’m much better at it than I used to be.”

Claudia takes the pages of her newspaper she’s finished readingand tears them into strips, and this funny, prickly hedgehog of a girl sitsclose in front of her, allowing her carefully roll her hair up into twists. Vanessaisn’t silent or sulking now: she’s talking about how she wants her hair to looklike Nina’s because Nina has the most beautiful hair, and gives a high-pitchedbubbling giggle as she recounts Claudia’s story about her own failed papercurls. She sounds just like the six year old she is instead of a tiny, furiousadult. Claudia’s back and eyes already ache from bending over and concentratingfor so long earlier, but she doesn’t mind pushing through it for this. Some things justneed a little patience.

[txladyj-blog]

Chapter 5 - This Time Around

a Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 15/?

Sleep. It’s when the body recovers and processes the day’s events. It makes things clearer and allows for a new perspective. Resting the mind, the body and the soul all at once. That is, where decent sleep can be attained.

Jess tossed and turned in her sleeping bag all night, tears staining her thin and threadbare pillow. Eventually, when the exhaustion of humiliation and rage had defeated her, she drifted off in the early hours of the morning only to dream of being chased and jolting awake a mere hour later. Her eyes felt puffy and stung with the reminder that emotionally, she desperately needed a break. She sat up, wiped the sleep from her eyes and faced the dread that festered deep inside. Facing everyone after the events of the night before was going to be tough, she knew that much.

When she emerged from her tent, she quickly scanned the camp, seeing no sign of Sarah and Jodie and figuring that it was a good start at least. Carol and Andrea offered her a small smile as they stood and talked by the RV and Dale lifted a hand in a small wave from his perch at the top. Aside from their small acknowledgements, no one else looked up as she headed for the food station. The minimal and careless reaction she received did something to aid her relief at least and she sensed her heart rate calm and her anxiety lessen.

After a night of replaying her recent torture by Sarah and Jodie, she wanted nothing more than to sit next to the one person she found solace with, but even he seemed too far out of reach. She knew deep down his distance from her was down to being associated with the girl that was constantly made fun of. She wasn’t the only one that had been humiliated. The thought of giving up on their friendship was not one she wanted to entertain and so, she had to at least try to talk to him.

Sitting on a rounded rock, alone and with eyes pinned on the still water, like a sheet of glass in front of him, Daryl could hear footsteps wandering across the gravel towards him. He sighed, knowing it was Jess and feeling more torn than ever. Half of him wanted to yell at her and make her go away. To tell her that he was not the type of person to maintain friendships and that he was better on his own, without the hassle of drawing attention from the lesser liked members of the group. The other half craved her company, her lighthearted banter, her smile, the gentle way she nudged his arm and laughed quietly when she was making fun of him. It was this half that was stronger, but he was locked in a war with them both.

“Hi” She said quietly.

A quick glance at her told him she had been severely affected by what had happened. Dark circles under her eyes told of a sleepless night spent crying and pouring over the details. The ‘what if’s’ the ‘maybe I could have’s’. His heart stung with sympathy but his face displayed nothing. A blank expression.

“Hey” He grunted.

She held out a metal bowl to him. It was another habit of their friendship that had suddenly become as routine as their nightly RV meeting place. She would wake as early as him, before many of the others would stir. She’d fix them some food and they’d sit together and eat quietly as the sun crept up into the sky and the warmth in the air became heavy and intense. Jess was never much of a morning person but her disturbed sleeping pattern and her unavoidable new life meant she was adapting and although she rarely spoke much before the others began to emerge from their tents, she enjoyed the fact that Daryl obviously felt the same about the comfort of the morning routine, having never complained or walked off until she moved first.

“Brought you some breakfast.” She told him.

“I ain't hungry.” He muttered. His body was rigid, stressed and on edge and no matter how many cigarettes he smoked, he could not ease the tension in his muscles. He wasn’t lying. Food was the last thing on his mind.

“You can always eat, Daryl.” She smiled.

“Said I ain't hungry.” He snapped. His chest constricted with guilt.

I’m being an asshole to her. Again. Why do I do this?

She immediately noticed his changed attitude towards her and joined the dots, realizing that he was angry about the previous night.

“Look, about last night-” She started

“-I don’t wanna talk about that.” He cut in

“But, I don’t-”

His head snapped around and his eyes met hers. To her dismay, they were filled with fury and she almost flinched at his aggressive attitude towards her.

“-What is wrong with you?! Huh?!” He raged “We ain’t gonna be no best friends! I don’t have friends n’ I don’t want ‘em neither! I don’t work that way! So just give it up!”

Her mouth dropped open and she blinked at him in disbelief. It was no secret that Daryl could be unpredictable and sharp tongued, but she had seen very little of it directed at her until that moment. Her entire body recoiled and screamed at her to leave before she was faced with more bitter disappointment and hurt.

Still clutching the bowl, she turned and walked away. Her path was blurred through yet more tears and she considered that if she was going to cry at anything since the turn, it would be the loss of her friends and family. But it was different, Daryl had changed things. Sarah and Jodie had changed things. She was mixed up, confused and frustrated.

Daryl grit his teeth and swallowed hard as he watched her walk away. Sliding from the rock, he started after her, boots noisily crashing through the pebbles of the shore. But his mind was too filled with complexities to have formed any kind of calm and coherent conversation. He stopped and raised his arms, his hands pushing into his hair on each side as he closed his eyes.

“Shit.”

He didn’t know why he was angry at her, logic told him that none of it was her fault. She was merely an unfortunate and easy target, but the humiliation was still raw and he still felt it from the night before. Always being an outcast and a target himself during high school and in the small, mountain town where he and his brother lived, Daryl had quickly become tired with being kicked when he was down and being dealt the worst hand. He evolved as he aged into what people that knew of him saw as a mini-me version of Merle and it was a judgement he couldn’t seem to shake and so eventually accepted. But the truth was, he wasn’t like Merle. He was empathetic and sensitive, two traits that would only get him targeted even more. He knew how Jess felt, maybe it was why he had raged at her, the all too familiar feeling of being so publicly ridiculed. Or, maybe it was because he felt genuine, powerful concern for her that had startled him and he didn’t know where it had come from or to do with it.

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Sarah flashed Daryl a wide grin as she approached him on the slope but received nothing but a scowl in return. She could see why the camp nerd had attached herself to him, he was brave, mysterious and surly. Not like the other men in the camp and he had garnered her admiration from the day she turned up with Jodie in tow, both shaking with fear and exhausted from the hike up the mountain. Merle had been easier to get through to, easier to persuade to follow her into the woods so she could use him to forget for a while.

It was an occurrence that he didn’t want a single soul to know about and gathered that Sarah felt the same. Daryl didn’t even register the first time she propositioned him, he’d shrugged off her passing, flirtatious comment as nothing, but it occurred to him when she tried a second time and made it more than obvious that she wanted something from him. He knew of girls like her. Whiter than white, rich kids from privileged backgrounds who love to make out that they’re so wholesome and in a position to persecute everyone else for their bad decisions, all the while going about numbing their own pain with the same activities they claim to loathe in others. When she confronted him in the tree line one evening and shoved him against a tree, he felt her hand cup between his legs and for a split second thought he might be having some kind of screwed up dream. Sarah’s long blonde hair tickled over his arms when she pressed herself to his body and brought her lips close to his ear.

“Wanna have a little fun, Daryl?”

His face twisted with disgust as he shoved her away from him, stopping himself from going as far as pointing his crossbow at her.

“Get the fuck away from me” He warned while she regained her footing on the woodland floor and stared at him with a determined look on her face.

“C’mon, let’s just forget for a while” She purred, reaching a hand out and dragging her fingertips down his bicep and biting her lip. “You’re hot. I’m hot. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” He grabbed her wrist so quickly it made her jump, his fingers like a vice as he used her arm to propel her backwards until her back hit a nearby tree and the air was knocked from her lungs, she buckled over and wheezed before gasping up at him in shock.

Self control was something Daryl was either good at or impulsive with, depending on the situation. Stood before a fed faced, coughing Sarah, all he wanted to do was shoot her in the face. But he wasn’t about to risk the place in the camp that he had earned. He knew Rick would banish him and probably Merle too for killing the living. He found himself inches from her face, sweat trickling down his temple.

“Don’t ever touch me again.” He growled.

Storming off into the dimly lit woods, he withdrew his knife from its holster and veered off in the direction where he’d last seen Walkers, needing to expel some rage.

When he noticed Sarah walking down the slope towards him, he decided that his lack of action to defend Jess and himself had meant that she thought she had triumphed over them, and so he needed the satisfaction of confronting her. But it wasn't just that, it was also years of being tormented, of seeing other kids dragged through the same ordeals. Dragged down to rock bottom by insecure, selfish kids that just made an already difficult childhood and life even harder. It was more than one thing. It was a multitude of things that Sarah represented and finally, he'd decided enough was enough.

Wearing a thin, dusty pink cami top that left nothing to the imagination, she ran a hand though her hair, gathering it at one side and winking at him. The tiny gesture did nothing but make him want to yell in her face. He stopped in her path and noted her looking him up and down with approval.

“Changed your mind?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Hi stomach churned. He couldn't think of anything less appealing. Merle's leftover's which happened to be highly undesirable in the first place. Daryl wasn't altogether as interested in the fairer sex as his brother was. Having never encountered a woman that possessed the traits in which he found attractive. While Merle went for the physical aspects of a female, Daryl was more drawn to the complexities of one's character and personality; Honesty, integrity, a sense of humour and a level of intelligence. As a result, the likes of Sarah was the embodiment of everything he despised.

“The hell was that last night?” He snapped.

“Just lightening the mood. Everybody’s so tense and boring around here.” She complained, rolling her eyes and twirling a piece of blonde hair around her fingers.

“Yeah?” He squared up to her, closing the gap between them. She tried to back up, stopping when she realized she was almost flat against the crumbling wall of the walkway to the quarry. “The next time ya do somethin’ like that for fun, ya better watch ya back, ‘cause you’ll be the one I trip up in front of Walkers to buy everybody else some time.”

An unsure but mischievous smile crept across her face.

“You’re real sexy when you’re mad, Y’know that? I bet you can unleash all kinds of rage in the bedroom. Can see why she’s got such a huge crush on you. It’s a pity your taste in women is so terrible, you sure you’d rather get your kicks with her over me?”

Actually, I would but I’m not about to admit that to you.

An idea crossed his mind. A risky one but an appealing one nonetheless. Sarah and Jodie toyed with Jess like a cat toys with a mouse before it kills it. Bit by bit, stealing small parts of its life force away. Daryl very deliberately dragged his eyes from her face, all the way down her body and back up again.

“You really wanna go to the woods with me?” He asked.

“You were my first choice, you know that.” She grinned.

“Alright, you gonna make it worth my while?” He asked.

“Oh yeah.”

Impulsivity. It was one of his flaws. His emotions and sensitivity leading him astray, into the realm of snap decisions that he sometimes regretted. But in the grand scheme of things, he couldn't see how any consequences that developed from his sudden idea could possibly make anything worse.

“Follow me.” He instructed with a small nudge of his head.

In the woods, Daryl walked as far as he could before reaching the border, stopping and leaning against a tree. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and tilted his head back at Sarah, who had halted in front of him and was looking at him like a lion eyeballs a steak. Merle was the better manipulator out of the two of them, but Daryl possessed the higher intellect that meant he knew exactly what to do going forward. Sarah was a simple creature, after one thing and one thing only. All he had to do was lead her there and she would do the rest.

“C’mon, get over here” He encouraged. "Unless ya shy."

“I’m not the shy type.” She purred as she moved close to him began skimming her fingertips along the edge of his leather vest, drawing subtle lines down his chest. Everything in him was screaming to be removed from the situation. The sensation of her fingertips skimming down his chest over his shirt felt like pure poison.

“Bet you can be a real bad girl, huh?” He asked. She slowly peered up at him, licking her lips. He let her close the gap between them and felt her nose and lips graze the side of his face.

"You wanna find out how bad I can be?" She uttered against his skin.

He clenched his jaw in disgust and wondered how anyone could possibly enjoy this kind of seedy and nauseating state of affairs. He took a deep breath before rapidly seizing her shoulders and ramming her back against the opposite tree. Her back hit the bark with a thump and shock flashed across her face, her hands coming up and tugging at his wrists. She wriggled under the pressure of his weight, his forearm now clamped across her chest and rendering her immobile. He levelled his eyes at her, his glare burning into her self-centered soul.

“I ain't never laid no violent hand on a woman, but you ain't no woman. You’re nothin’ but a fuckin’ parasite. I wouldn’t screw you if my life depended on it. What ya did to that girl was fuckin’ low. She ain’t never done nothin’ to you.” He seethed, finally standing up for Jess’s honor didn’t feel as strange as he imagined it to. In fact, it felt totally right.

“That’s cute. You’re defending poor, chubby Jennifer” she pouted breathlessly

This bitch really doesn’t give up.

Daryl suddenly felt like he was watching someone else make a move as his hand lowered and took hold of his hunting knife. In a split second, the shiny, silver blade was pressed against Sarah’s throat and her eyes flashed with pure terror. The knife pressed further towards her skin and he knew he’d have to let up soon or he really would end up killing her. Her chin rippled and a small, frightened whimper was enough to tell Daryl that he had succeeded in scaring her into submission. Finally, she gave in, her cheeks suddenly wet with tears.

“Her name’s Jess, dumbass.” He spat. “I don’t know how the hell you’re even still alive if ya this fuckin’ stupid. You even look at her again n’ I’ll slit ya goddamn throat and leave ya out here to the Walkers. You understandin’ me?”

She nodded tearfully, sniffing and still trying to feebly pull on his arm to release her. But Daryl only moved when he was ready, staring her down before he eventually released her and was gone in the blink of an eye.

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Jess didn’t move from her tent for the entire day. She ignored Carol’s attempt to coax her out to eat something and Glenn checking in on her by peering around the zipper of the tents entrance. In the night, she got up and wandered down to the water's edge. Unbeknownst to her, Daryl was sat in the dark, smoking and reflecting upon his actions that day. He was sure that Sarah deserved to be frightened into ceasing her childish and spiteful antics, but he was unsure if his violent threat had been the right move to make. He had never hurt or threatened a woman before, telling himself his whole life that he would be nothing like his father. But in that moment, with Sarah shoved against a tree with a blade to her throat, he wanted nothing more than to be able to follow through with his threat, especially when he visualized Jess’s horrified and devastated face while she watched in horror as Sarah read her journal aloud. He was some distance from her, far enough back from the water for her not to notice his presence but close enough to see her hugging her knees, lit by the moon and hear her quiet sobbing.

It was a sunny, Sunday afternoon. The first Jess and her family had spent in their new home on the Army base in Ft Rucker. Their sixth, official military base home in as many years. Moving so much had come at a cost, Jess never really settled anywhere and found it difficult to hold down friendships. Her studies suffered and her parents piled on the pressure to succeed despite her struggles. She wasn’t like them, not an overachiever in everything she tried and as a result, always felt a little outcast, even from her own immediate family. But she loved them unconditionally anyway. The Barbeque was in full swing, the burgers were being slid into buns and piled up on the table in the yard, the smell of charcoal and burning meat filling her nostrils and cementing its place in her memory as a connection to one of the most enjoyable afternoons of her life. Jess and her older brother played cards while sipping punch made from fruit juices and an extremely large bottle of rum that her father had emptied into it without her mother knowing. He offered Jess a small wink after he hid the empty bottle in a cupboard and carried the punch bowl outside. They ate as much as humanly possible in one sitting, laughed and felt the hazy blur of alcohol after a couple of hours and finished up the evening with a loud and boisterous game of charades. If she could choose to have anything, to go back to any point in time, she wouldn’t erase the last few hours, she would simply opt to go back to that day and relive it again. To be with her family and drink her father’s super strong punch and eat four burgers without caring what anyone thought. But she was stuck in a quarry, in a camp at the end of the world with Sarah and Jodie, the type of people she despised, a bunch of others that she hardly knew and didn’t want to, even though their hearts seemed good and their intentions were sincere. And Daryl, she didn’t know what she thought of him anymore.

He finished his smoke and drew in a deep and thoughtful breath. His heart told him to go to her, but his head said otherwise. He was getting attached; he knew that much because the feeling itself was unknown to him. He’d never felt it before about anyone, never cared enough. Certainly not enough to hold a knife to another human's throat in their honor. It was dangerous to become attached to people, he couldn’t trust them and didn’t need to rely on them and eventually, everyone goes away in the end in some way or another. But Jess seemed different and he pondered if it would be so bad to just have one friend. To have that one person that knew him more than his brother did. His heart won the battle and he got up and went to her, his boots crunching on the gravel. When she heard him near her, she jumped up and swiped tears from her face with her sleeve.

“Hey, Jess.” He said.

It was most unusual, the use of her name in his greeting to her. From this simple and apparently meaningless phrase, she knew everything had changed.

“Hi” She sniffed.

He sighed when he saw her puffy face, a tear glistening in the moonlight on her cheek. In his whole life, he was certain he’d not felt an ounce of sympathy when anyone cried, but stood there before Jess, who was undeserving and innocent, his chest hurt and he wanted to do something totally out of the ordinary…he wanted to hug her.

“Heard ya cryin.” Was all he said instead, unable to muster the courage for physical contact.

“Bad day at the office,” she remarked.

It was clearer than ever that she was the only person he’d ever spoken to that seemed to want to be around him and be his friend. His angry and embarrassed reaction to recent events meant he took it out on her with no grounds in which to do so, but it was all he knew and what she’d written in her journal had made everything exceptionally awkward.

“S’my fault. Shouldn’t have gone in on ya like that” He admitted.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” She responded, turning her back and walking to the slope.

Something in Daryl urged him to stop her. To say something. Anything to prevent her from walking away and the situation remaining unsolved or even improved in the slightest.

“Hey. Wait.” He called out, but she continued to walk, bringing a hand up and wiping her face again. “Jess. Stop. Please” He tried again. She stopped but didn’t grace him with turning around or even a glance over her shoulder. She couldn’t look at him, too mortified to be near him.

“Just ignore ‘em.”

By all accounts and by his own admission, it was a feeble and pathetic attempt to soothe her feelings. Far from being an expert, the intention was there but the know how and the sensitivity lacked. However, Jess couldn’t deny that she appreciated his effort, it was just too little, too late. Finally spinning around to face him, she flapped her arms by her sides with exasperation.

“You said it yourself, we weren’t even friends in the first place. Why are you even talking to me?” She asked, by that point totally done with skirting around the issue and feeling her temper beginning to rise.

“That was just some shit I said in anger.” Daryl tried to explain as honestly and to the point as possible.

“C’mon, Daryl. Don’t say that just because you feel guilty for yelling at me and being a dick for the past few days. You don’t even have a right to be angry at me, I haven’t done anything wrong. You don’t like me any more than they do. I’ve just forced you to talk to me since I’ve been here.” She argued. Her body language had changed, now laced with hints of anger and irritation as her hands flew up every time she started a new sentence.

“I don’t do nothin I don’t wanna do.” He told her.

She wiped at her face again, her skin still damp and puffy and the extra tears now doing nothing but increasing her anger. He wished he could say what he wanted to say but far from being an expert at such confrontations, he was having trouble getting his point across. Panic set in when he saw her try to leave again and so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“The way you are with me, ain’t like nobody else.”

She halted and shot him a confused look.

“What does that even mean? I’ve always treated you like you’re another human being.” She cried with exasperation. If no one in the camp had heard her raised voice by now, they were lucky.

“Yeah” He agreed. “Exactly.”

Then, she understood. His uncomfortable expression, his hands pushed into his jeans pockets and the fact that he was still stood there despite the emotional toll of the topic, told her a lot. He was trying. What she couldn’t decide, was if it was through guilt, or because he genuinely cared. The prospect of them carrying on as friends after the journal incident was a ridiculous notion to Jess. Nothing would ever be the same again and neither of them had asked for it.

“I’m sorry you had to hear all that. What she read out. I-I didn’t know what I was talking about when I wrote it.” She attempted to explain.

“Don’t have to explain. It’s alright.” He dismissed as he dug a boot into the dirt.  

“I don’t want you thinking that the only reason I hang out with you is because I think your attractive or that I have a stupid crush on you. That’s not the reason I talk to you so much.” She confirmed with little belief that it would do anything to stop him going over what he had heard every time he looked at her.

“I know.” He mumbled

“I mean, I’m not saying you’re not attractive. You obviously… are. Very attractive. I just…”

I’m digging my own grave here. Stop talking.

“Nevermind.”

She heard him huff and caught him smiling in the moonlight. It was an overly shy smile and in that moment, during the most difficult conversation they’d ever had about a subject that was leaving them both highly uncomfortable, she had delivered a compliment to him that she was convinced had actually made him blush. To her it was the most amazing thing and a sight she could have looked at all night. He appeared so bashful that his lip curled up into an almost never ending half smile and he could only look out across the water. Her growing affection for him intensified in those few seconds.

“Um…Thanks.” He grunted

She sighed and dropped her gaze to the floor, sensing him studying her silently for a moment. He was baffled by his urge to protect her having previously failed to see how much their friendship had grown over the months they’d spent at the camp.

“We are friends. Alright? And I don’t think you’re a loser.” He wanted her to know.

She slowly looked up at him and he wished it was lighter, just a little more, so he could see her eyes and try to gauge how she was reacting. But a silhouetted figure and a darkness shrouded face was all he had to work with.

“Maybe a little weird…n’ too damn loud in the woods. But ya ain’t no loser.” He added, lightheartedly.

Just smile at me. Please.

“Not sure about that.” She whispered as she wrapped her arms around herself, hugging her torso.

“Jess, it don’t matter. What she did. What she read out. It don’t matter.”

It was a last-ditch attempt at trying to convince her to put it all behind her and try and start over. For a fleeting moment, he thought she was about to agree when she offered him a small smile. But then, she started to back away.

“Matters to me.”

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Such a conversation with Daryl was a first and Jess lay in her tent with her head propped up on her backpack full of clothes and over thought every single detail. It was one of her downfalls, overanalyzing everything and coming up with six when she put two and two together. The stitching on the inside of the roof of the tent was now serving a different purpose than to just keep a roof over her head. It was now a visual representation of every single time she’d been hurt by Sarah or Jodie. Every little quip or whisper sewn into the fabric just like it was now sewn into the fabric of her being.

Sitting up, she crawled to the front of the tent and checked the top of the RV. Andrea was sat alone at the top, reading a book. No sign of Daryl. She growled to herself. Typical. She wanted to find him, to speak to him and tell him that she was willing to try and put everything behind her and continue to be his friend if he wanted her to be. That she’d had time to think and decided that the friendship that had blossomed from nowhere between them was too good a thing to throw away.

She climbed out of her tent, crossed the clearing and approached the slope that led down to the water, checking the place she’d last seen him made the most sense to her. Hearing whispers in front of her from the cloak of darkness, she detected Merle’s voice, along with Daryl’s.  

“I hear you right earlier? Ya ain’t comin’ into the city.” Merle asked.

“No. Ya only want whiskey, Merle. Rick was right, s’a bad idea.” Daryl replied, shooting the idea down in flames.

“That little girlfriend of yours got ya all mixed up? You ain’t no fun no more” Merle complained.

Jess sighed, releasing a huff of anger at the notion that everyone seemed to have it in for them.

“She ain’t my girlfriend, man. Get outta here with that shit.” Daryl protested.

“We all heard what she wrote in that diary o’hers. Tellin’ me you wouldn’t tap that? it wouldn’t take much convincin’.”

“Stop.” came Daryl's short warning.

“Oh, I see it now. She actually means somethin’ to you, don’t she? That the reason our plan means diddly squat to you now? ‘Cause ya went ‘n caught some feelin’s for the little, fat chick?”

Ignoring Merle’s offensive description of her, Jess’s mind raced with the possible responses Daryl could have to the question. Would he tell his brother that he cared about her? Would he just brush it off and remind him they were just friends? Or was she about to hear him confess to seeing her the same way as she saw him?

“The plan ain’t a plan no more because it was a fuckin’ dumb idea! She’s just a girl, she don’t mean shit to me, alright?! Just drop it.”

In the blink of an eye, upon the delivery of one sentence, Jess stopped believing in happy endings. She knew fairytales didn’t exist and it was confirmed for her that she would never fully trust anyone again. Her sneakers scraped up over the gravel as she began to back away from the sound of the voices. Her heart was undoubtedly broken, but she was done with crying over it. 

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I think it’s time I left this place. Maybe it’s better to keep moving. I don’t contribute anything to the group that can’t be replaced by somebody else and I don’t think I can live with the humiliation that Sarah and Jodie have caused. I also overheard Daryl telling his brother that I mean nothing to him. I thought we were friends at least. I should have known his mixed signals were lies. I’m so stupid. What was I thinking? In hindsight, it was obvious that getting attached to someone like him would only get me hurt. But I just had that hope. Stupid, wasted, dangerous hope. I still can’t believe it’s all been a lie.

I stole a gun from the RV and a couple cans of food that nobody will notice are gone until I’m at least a few miles out. Hopefully, it’ll help to keep me going on my way back to the city. I suspect Daryl may try to track me at first, but at least I know now that it won’t be because he cares. It’ll be because people will ask him to. Maybe Carol, or Carl. I’ll miss them and I hope they make it.

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Two hours was all he needed. Two hours of broken sleep and he was up and tracking rabbits in the woods. The task at hand would have been easy enough, having been performed a million and one times over. But that was when his head was clearer and his circumstances were different. Even before the turn, there was always something hanging over him right from when he was a child. His father’s violence, his mothers drinking, Merle’s increasing absence, school, bar fights, drugs, bail money. The only tranquility in Daryl’s whirlwind of a life was the woods. The place he felt like he could be himself and stop entertaining thoughts of whatever issue he had to deal with that day. But now the world had changed and so had he, thanks to the introverted but chatty girl he had befriended and managed to hurt at the same time. He told himself; one more rabbit. It would be enough and then he could go back to camp and sit with her. He didn’t plan on saying much, but he hoped his presence alone would be enough for her to see that he wasn’t going to enable anything that Sarah or Jodie had done to impact their friendship after all.

Catching the final rabbit had been easy, barely ten minutes spent tracking the target that was so busy trying to find its own food that it noticed nothing untoward until the last, deadly second. When he pushed through the trees, clutching a collection of rabbits and squirrels, he was forced to halt where he was. Carol stood in front of him with her arms tightly wrapped around her torso and her lips pushed into a thin line. The first thought that entered his head was that the camp had been attacked and someone was dead. The flash of panic that surged through his veins at the thought of it being Jess took him by surprise. Carol slowly walked towards him.

“What’s goin’ on?” he questioned.

“Daryl…” She started. “It’s Jess.”

No. No, this can’t be happening. Tell me she’s alive.

He could sense his chest constrict and his grip become tighter around the legs and tails of the dead animals in his grasp.

“What? What about her? She OK?” He demanded.

Carol let out a sympathetic huff and tilted her head to the side, shrugging one shoulder up.  

“She’s gone.” She whispered.

“Gone? What d’ya mean, ‘gone’?”

Daryl’s voice was now a lot louder than he had meant it to be, but the need for more information was now starting to press on his last nerve.

“Her belongings are missing, so is one of Shane’s guns. We think she left in the night.” Carol explained.

His eyes flashed with disbelief and he surged past her, striding over to the camp and dumping the animals in the dirt by the burned-out fire. Everyone stopped their tasks and conversations as he began throwing open people’s tents, storming in and out of the RV like a hurricane and calling her name at the top of the slope to the water. Carol watched on as he paced back and forth with his hands on his head as Merle emerged from his tent.

“Naw.” He shakes his head “Naw. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t just leave.”

“She not here. We’ve looked everywhere.” Glenn offered from beside Rick and Shane, who were stood next to the loaded-up truck which had all their guns arranged on the hood like a bizarre art installation.

Daryl looked over at her tent, lunging at it and ripping it open, his face falling in dismay when he saw nothing inside. He growled loudly to himself as his breathing increased and his heart started to hammer. Carol, who was usually skittish and nervous around aggression and anger, made the attempt to calm him by gently touching his arm but as soon as the contact was made with his skin, he flinched and threw her off.

“SHIT!” He bellowed.

Throwing his crossbow from his back onto the floor, he spun around, his gaze stopping on Andrea.

“You!” He exclaimed, pointing a calloused finger at her. His hand hovered over her chest and she took a step back. “You were s’posed to be on watch! Why didn’t ya see her leave?! Huh?! The fuck were ya doin’ up there?!”

Before she could even begin to fathom an answer, Rick stepped in and worked his way in between them, placing a hand on Daryl’s chest and coaxing him back. Again, he flinched off the contact which told Rick in no uncertain terms that now more than ever, was not a good time to be touching him.

“Daryl, this isn’t anybody’s fault. She took everything with her. She wanted to go.” Rick reasoned.

“No! You don’t know her! She wouldn’t!” He argued.

“You got it bad, boy” Merle laughed from the other side of camp. His boots cracked over snapping twigs on the ground while he slowly made his way over to the scene. Sauntering casually and rolling a cigarette between his fingers. “I thought she didn’t mean shit to ya. Ain't that what you said?”

Something in Daryl snapped. He swung an arm out and collided his fist with his brother’s nose. The impact was so strong that it caused Merle to stagger back after everyone winced at the sickening crack that echoed around the camp and bounced from the trees. Merle blinked in surprise and brought his hands up to his face. Warmth coated his fingers as blood trickled through the gaps. His eyes flicked up and he lunged at Daryl, only to be stopped by Shane. Daryl's hand thundered with pain but it was a pain he needed, a welcome distraction from the pain in his heart, caused by the knowledge that he had failed to reassure her, to keep her here under the promise that nothing had to change. A million and one 'what if's' floated through his mind.

“Easy” Shane grunted while throwing his weight back against Merle to prevent him from surging forwards and causing a mass brawl.

“I’ma knock you into the middle o’ next week, you little shit!” Merle hissed. Blood sprayed messily from between his teeth, peppering his vest and anyone unlucky enough to be close enough to him.  

Daryl, chest heaving and teeth clamped together, made off for the trees.

“Where are you going? Daryl?!” Carol called after him.

“To find her!” He shouted over his shoulder. “Y’all would do well to stay outta my fuckin’ way too.”

“What if she doesn’t want to be found?” Carol reasoned.

Ignoring her, he vanished into the trees, leaving Shane Still struggling with Merle and a dozen shocked faces all peering awkwardly at one another.

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When evening arrived, it brought with it Daryl’s return to the camp. Much to the surprise of the other inhabitants that expected him to be gone for days on end. He said nothing, only sitting down by the fire and hanging his head. His arms were decorated with scratches and as Rick watched him push his fingers into his dirty, tousled hair he realized that Jess’s departure had impacted their resident hunter more than he had thought.

“Here” He said, throwing a plastic bottle of water over at him. It landed between his boots and Daryl wearily reached down and picked it up. He unscrewed the cap and took a large gulp. Around him, was every single other member of the camp. He had walked into some kind of meeting but could care less about interrupting. He knew Rick was mid-sentence when he’d appeared and flopped down onto the ground, not listening to a word that was being said. In fact, he didn’t even notice when the cop and seemingly unelected leader stopped talking and his surroundings grew uncomfortably quiet. Clearing his throat, Rick carried on speaking.

“Is everybody in agreement that we should go ahead with tomorrow morning’s run?”

People must have nodded but Daryl didn’t look up or show an ounce of interest.

“We need more food.” Rick continued “Daryl?”

He didn't want to talk, or have to make any decisions. he didn't want to take part in a meeting or do anything except rest until he had enough energy to go back out in search of his friend. A long and exhausted sigh followed an angry glare when he finally looked up meant Rick had already been put in his place. But he knew he had to ask the question regardless."

“You OK to hunt over the next couple days?”

“No.” Daryl said firmly.

Rick’s eyebrows raised momentarily and he caught the gaze of his wife, Lori. She gave him a small nod, urging him to continue.

“We don’t have enough food for the next few days.” He explained.

“Yeah, n' I said no. I’m goin’ lookin for Jess.” Daryl snapped back.

“Oh, come on.” He heard Sarah scoff. Rage flared in his chest and pumped through his veins, white hot fury fueling him to act. He jumped to his feet and with a click and a gasp sounding out from those around him, he pointed his crossbow at her face. Tense murmurs filled the air and Rick was rapidly crossing the space between them with intent to stop him.

“Back off, Sherriff.” Daryl warned without moving his vision from his target, stopping Rick in his tracks and pushing the crossbow further into Sarah’s face.

“Hey, shit for brains” he hissed through his teeth at her. “You two are the reason she’s gone. If ya don’t shut up I’ma put a bolt between ya eyes”

“Daryl, you won’t be hurting anyone. Put it down.” Rick insisted, drawing his gun.

Merle, who had been slowly ambling up the slope to the camp when he heard a commotion, seemed to turn up out of nowhere. Calmly, and apparently with no recollection of his brother’s savage punch earlier in the day, he stepped between the barrel of Ricks gun and Daryl.

“Woah, now Sheriff. What ya say you just let my brother do what he pleases? He’s been feedin’ y’all for weeks now. He wants to shoot the bitch, then I say we let him.” He smiled. “She ain’t good for much anyways”

Sarah looked up at Daryl’s fierce expression over the tip of the arrow pointed at her forehead.

“You calling me shit for brains? Please. Stupid Redneck.” She shot at him with little to no fear of being impaled in the face with a crossbow bolt. Telling herself he wouldn’t do it, she forced her shoulders back and tried to hide her fear.  

“Rednecks good enough to scratch ya itches though, right?” Daryl commented.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Oh whatever, asshole.”

“You been fuckin’ Merle in the woods” He proclaimed loudly. Sarah’s jaw dropped open and Jodie, who had shifted up considerably from her side, stared at her friend in disbelief.

“You said he was lying.” She whispered.

“Oh, ain't no lie, sweetheart!” Daryl shouted as he jostled the crossbow closer to Sarah's face. “Likes herself some rough, this one! Tried it with me n’ when I turned her ugly ass down she went after my brother! Goes around judging folks, makin’ fun of ‘em. When all the while, she’s lettin’ my brother search her for pocket change in the woods most nights!”

Glenn, who was sitting across the fire with wide eyes, sucked both of his lips into his mouth to stifle what would undoubtedly be a roar of laughter, not only at Daryl’s rage, but at his amusing choice of words.

“This is awkward” He pointed out.

“I know. It’s great.” T-dog added from beside him. He shuffled around on the spot, getting comfortable for the remainder of the show.

Andrea sprang forwards from where she was leaning against the RV, obviously feeling the need to intercept at the sound of such a crass topic.

“Daryl, that’s enough, there are children that can hear you.” She scolded as she stepped into the circle behind him. He lowered his crossbow and turned on his heels, locking her in a death glare.

“People out there eatin’ people!” He shouted as he raised his arms. His crossbow swung clumsily in his grip “Sluts fuckin’ rednecks all over the show but we better not say no bad words, huh?!" His neck flared red and veins protruded on his temples.

Sarah, who by now was completely mortified at the whole camp knowing about her night-time activities, slowly lifted her vision to Merle, who was still stood between Daryl and Rick. He began to laugh loudly to himself.

“Cats outta the bag, sugar! God damn!” He chuckles, throwing a wink her way. “No more squat thrusts in the pickle patch!”

She immediately got up and stomped off, leaving a collection of stunned faces. Jodie watched her depart, her face twisted with disgust.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ for none of y’all!” Daryl fumed, whirling around and swinging a pointed finger at them all. “Gonna look for Jess. Merle can hunt. I’m out”

With that, he threw his crossbow over his shoulder and scuffed out of the circle around the fire, off into the woods to set to work finding the girl that had managed to work her way so far into his heart that he wasn’t about to let her go without a fight.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

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