#daddy!daryl incoming

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 26

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Mainly just pregnancy stuff

A/N: I hope I pulled this off while keeping our archer in character. Be gentle.

You knew it was bothering him, it was evident in the way he moved. The jerking slices of the knife as he made bolts while he sat cross legged on the old railing across from you. You were perched on the porch swing—he had all but jumped up and down on it to make sure it would hold you safely—just watching him, guilt flaring to singe the inside of your chest. He wanted to go on the run, get the things that you and the baby needed, but you were scared. Hershel had said the baby could come any day. It was at your insistence that Daryl wasn’t going. You didn’t have to try hard, mind you. He was worried about leaving you as well.

Still, it wasn’t sitting right with him for the others to be risking their necks for his baby.

“Maybe you should go.” You finally said, picking at your thumbnail. You saw his movements come to an abrupt halt before continuing.

“Nah. Ya need me here.” He sniffed, starting up on another piece of wood. He had legitimate bolts with his crossbow, so you could only assume he was just trying to keep his hands busy. He was so undeniably torn and it was showing.

“I think you should. You know what I need. You’ve read the books. Maggie will be there to help with the medical side of things, the list Hershel made.” You sat up straighter, attempting to massage the little foot away from your ribs. Of course, Daryl noticed.

“S’wrong?” He was climbing off the rail and made it over to you in one long stride, giving you a once over before he sat down. He didn’t ask before taking over for you, lightly rubbing over the little form of toes with the smallest, gentlest of smiles. You’d almost consent to constant discomfort if it meant you’d see more of that expression.

“Thumper has a personal vendetta against my ribcage.” Your head found your partner’s shoulder, watching that same laser focus that had moments ago been on the wood he was carving now honed in on you. For a moment, you were just a couple expecting a baby. For a moment, the world hadn’t ended. For a moment, you had managed to find perfect. “I love you.”

Daryl’s hand froze but for a mere heartbeat before his fingertips continued chasing little toes as if he were playing a game with the baby, when in reality he was simply trying to divert the tiny digits away from your ribs. “So ya keep sayin’.”

“So you keep saying. Is that all you’re ever gonna say?” You weren’t angry, not even frustrated. There was merely a soft curiosity that sat in the back of your mind; along with the little voice that assured you Daryl was yours and you were his, even if he could never say the words.

“Dunno.” It always unsettled you when he spoke so quietly, small and fragile as if he feared his words would end in some sort of pain. God, you wanted to bury his father in a gopher hole, maybe even his mother and brother. It was normal for a person to be unsure of feelings, to question and explore before accepting what they were, good or bad. Daryl didn’t have that capability. He questioned. He explored. And then he feared, good or bad. He didn’t think he deserved good and he was so attuned with bad that it’s what came naturally in his own reactions. Perhaps he thought you were trying to fix him, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. You didn’t see anything broken. You saw someone who had never been shown what love was supposed to feel like. He wasn’t broken, he just needed to learn, and Daryl was good at learning. 

Still you persevered, your fingers finding their way into his hair, delicately tracing the scar from Andrea’s bullet. “Do you love me, Daryl?” Maybe narrowing it down to a simple yes or no would make it easier for him. Maybe you were pushing him. You would need time if the answer was no but you would be okay. He cared enough to be with you, to raise Thumper as a family. In the end, that was all you needed.

But then his hand stilled on the center of your swollen belly and he lifted his head to seek out your gaze. Even with all the emotion stirring in those stormy pools of blue, you could easily see the fear, but there was something else. You continued to run your fingers through his hair, the color darkening somewhat as it grew. Even with that comforting gesture, you held his gaze, heard his breath stutter, watched his lips move so, so nimbly without a sound. His free hand came up to brush back your own hair, tenderly tucking it behind your ear. As he leaned toward you, the corners of your mouth lifted into a welcoming smile.

“Y/N, I—”

“We’re heading out!” Glenn called from the doorway before stepping onto the porch. Daryl pulled away fast, his hands on his knees, eyes downcast. 

You were going to absolutely torture Glenn before you murdered him.

“You sure you don’t wanna go, Daryl?” Rick had joined Glenn and was checking his weapons before he finally looked up.

Daryl, though, only had eyes for you; his bowed head angled to see you, questioning. 

You sighed with a smile, giving him a nudge with your elbow. “Go. Try to find those bra pad things. Cloths suck and they hurt my nipples.” There was no deeper shade of red that could color his skin. You laughed, loud and true. “Go. We’ll be fine.” Licking his lips nervously, Daryl nodded and left the swing.

T-Dog held out the archer’s bag and crossbow. “Thought you might change your mind. Went ahead and grabbed these.” He only received a nod. 

The group began to descend the steps, but Daryl paused at the end, looking back to you. He closed the distance in seconds, a finger hooking under your chin to lift your face higher, even though you were already looking at him. “Be back ‘fore dark. Promise.”

That earned him one of your sweetest smiles. “We’ll be waiting.” You patted your belly. The rough hand at your chin, moved to your jaw, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. “I love you, Daryl. Be safe.” He hesitated, long enough for something to stir in your chest. Hope? Excitement? Then he merely nodded and was gone.

You and Lori were given the least strenuous tasks. She was not far behind you. A few weeks, her belly almost as prominent as your own. Luckily, you found it helped for folding clothing before stuffing them in the correct bag. Your bare feet were propped up in a chair across from you, your ankles swollen, squeezed by the socks that you had to wear to keep them warm. Your body just ached all over. Thumper Dixon was playing field hockey with your internal organs and the nausea you had definitely not missed was threatening to make a comeback. You just felt awful.

“The last month is the worst.” Lori commented while packing away some of Carl’s clothing. “And it’ll take a while after the baby comes to feel human again.”

“Growing a human fucking sucks.” You groused, one of Daryl’s few shirts lying spread over your torso. “And goddamnit, I have to pee. I always have to pee.”

“Means you’re hydrated at least. Silver linings.” Lori tittered. If anyone had been watching the two of you battling to your feet, it would have been worthy of more than a few chuckles.

“Thanks for going with me. Daryl would have a kitten if I went alone.” When you straightened, there was an immediate feeling of change in your body that had you looking to Lori, eyes wide. “Holy shit, I can breathe but I feel like I’m gonna piss my pants and my hips hurt.”

She smiled and placed her hands over her own round bump. “The baby dropped. You're carrying differently now. I wish we had a mirror.” 

“Carrying differently? What do you—oh.” You immediately noticed when you began to massage the taut skin that the swell sat lower. You suddenly couldn’t remember a word the old man had said. Were you about to go into labor? How would Daryl know? You couldn’t do it without him.

“Easy, Y/N.” At some point, the other woman had crossed the small space and put her hands on your shoulders, your stomachs brushing against one another. “It just means the baby’s getting ready. Though, I think after this run, Daryl should probably consider staying behind on any others.” You nodded, trying to get your breathing under control. In through the nose, out through the mouth. “Let’s go take care of business and then let Hershel do his daily thing, okay?”

You nodded again, a jerky motion while you trembled. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” You followed behind her, trying to keep your mind on the fact that if you didn’t empty your bladder within the next couple of minutes, you would still be incredibly anxious but you would be so with wet pants. “Maybe the little gremlin can’t reach my ribs now.”

You felt like crap. All day, you felt heavy and sluggish, swollen and nauseous. By late afternoon, you just couldn’t stand it anymore. 

“Carol.” You spoke her name quietly, leaning onto the dusty countertop to pillow your head on your folded arms. You saw the concern on her face when she turned from canned foods with which she was planning small meals. You couldn’t even wave away her worry. “Do you need my help right now? I think I’d really like to lie down.” 

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” She came to place a hand on your back, rubbing softly. It only succeeded in making your yearn for Daryl to be there, easing your fears in his own Daryl way. He would probably already have an aneurysm when someone told him that you’d done work, light as it was. And then you needed to tell him that the baby had indeed dropped. God, even if you didn’t tell him, he’d notice with that keen eye of his. Your stomach had shifted, still round but lower. There was so much pressure on your pelvis that you thought the bones might separate at any moment. Lori had promised that what you were feeling was normal, that it was simply new and you would take a day or two to adjust unless the baby decided to make its debut before you could.

“I just don’t feel well.” You stood straighter, nodding that she could remove her hand and you were fine. “I’d rather have Daryl come back to me feeling like shit and resting than to me feeling like shit and trying to help get things done.”

“I can’t argue with that.” She laughed. 

Carol was about the only other person in the group that Daryl dropped any of his walls around. With Rick, it was all business. There was respect there, but not yet friendship. You could see it though, the subtle changes in your hunter. He was getting comfortable around these people. It was a snail’s pace but if they were anything like you hoped they were, he would be granted their patience. God knew, he had earned it. 

“Come on.” Carol urged. “Let’s get you settled.” 

With each step, you whined, feeling less and less like the woman you had been only months before, like she had been left behind somewhere, starved or trampled by a herd. “I hate this. Is it wrong to hate this?” You grimaced at Carol who only chuckled breathily, her hand resting on your cheek.

“It’s not wrong. This is a lot. Our bodies do a lot.” A couple of soft pats and then she bent down to straighten the bedroll and arrange the blankets. 

You were watching, actually finding yourself excited to be off your feet and deciding that a nap wouldn’t be so horrible when there was a strange feeling low in your belly. It started as a gradual tightening but soon turned into an unyielding cramp, your stomach hard beneath your hands as you grabbed for your sweater. You gasped Carol’s name, could hear her clearly calling for Hershel but you couldn’t seem to respond, swallowed up by every fear that had been looming like a dark shadow for the past few weeks. The pain wasn’t even horrible, not like you had imagined at all. But it was terrifying. The only thing you could think of to do was hold the area that housed your little Thumper and whimper out Daryl’s name.

A bed had been cleared, dusted, and made for you in the downstairs room. As you laid there, resting, and stared at the half empty cup of water on the bedside table, you overheard Beth and Carl animatedly re-telling how two walkers had shuffled by the driveway gate. The children had hid and remained quiet, reporting that no others were seen once those two had moved on. You weren’t naive enough to hope that it didn’t mean more were coming. The group would need to pack up and head out likely within the next day or so. 

“Braxton Hicks.” Hershel had stated matter-of-factly. He had expressed that he was actually surprised you hadn’t experienced them before then, added that maybe you had but they were so mild that you just didn’t notice. You had two more instances over the course of three hours but nothing since then, though your body seemed to be in a constant state of dread, waiting for another to happen; for it to be more than what Hershel had said. You were waiting for something to be wrong.

Beyond the dusty, tattered green curtains, you could see the light fading. Daryl would be back soon. Would he blame you for bringing this on by doing a little work? Would he be angry? He’d be beside himself with worry, that much was a given. Hershel had said you could do small chores, that it was good for you to be moving, but what if Daryl didn’t see it that way? The morning had started so perfectly. The conversation had been left unfinished but it didn’t seem to have been heading anywhere bleak. 

“Ugh.” You didn’t know what was more exhausting, your body or your brain. Each time you closed your eyes, your mind ran rampant with each and every wildly negative scenario it could possibly conjure. You groaned and rolled to your other side despite the effort and apprehensiveness of even moving. Letting your eyes close yet again, you fought against the intrusive thoughts, forcing images of what Thumper might look like instead. A little girl with Daryl’s eyes and your smile. A little boy with unruly light hair like Daryl’s had been, a constant scowl. You laughed softly, wetly, shedding a few tears around your smile. No matter the sex of the baby, you hoped for Daryl’s eyes. They were the one thing to always gave him away, no matter what expression he wore. With a baby that couldn’t communicate needs and wants, you would at least have that in your corner.

At some point, you must have dozed off, opening your eyes to the sound of the old truck Daryl was driving. Looking to the window, you could see the faint light of dusk giving way to the moon. He’d kept his promise, albeit barely. You didn’t care as long as he was back. Shifting and struggling, you finally made it upright just as you heard Glenn’s all too cheerful voice, though you couldn’t make out the words. Rick’s few words trailed right after. Then there was Daryl. He spoke but then there was nothing more than hushed tones. Hershel offering the day's events, most likely. A thud was followed by echoing stomps of boots pounding against the hardwood floors.

“Where is she?” Daryl roared, closer to the door.

“She’s fine, son. She’s resting. This is normal. It just caused a bit of a fright. She just—”

“Where. Is. She?!”

The old man must have nodded or pointed because the next thing you knew, the door was swinging open with Daryl’s silhouette backdropped by the soft candlelight in the other room. His shoulders were heaving in what sounded so close to sobs that you squinted your eyes for a chance to catch his expression before he moved, startling you with how quickly he had one knee on the bed and was leaning in to check you over himself. He was filthy, mostly dirt and grime, but spots of walker blood and a cut across his cheek that was no longer bleeding. 

“What happened?” You asked, reaching for his face but letting your hand hover in fear of hurting him.

“Don’t matter. Ya alright? Baby okay?” He was breathless, either from his haste to get to you or maybe just with worry. He was touching you without hesitance, his hands in a mad rush to feel your face, neck, your belly. You watched his eyes go wide and knew exactly what it meant. “Why’s it look diff’rent?” 

“Thumper dropped.” His eyes were dancing back and forth as he flipped through his mental catalog of reading material and Hershel’s words. Relief was evident in his posture when he recalled what he had been searching for, but he was still tense.

“Hershel said ya was crampin’. The fake shit. Does it hurt now?” You shook your head and watched him finally sink onto his hip beside you, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Shouldn’a gone. Ya didn’t need to be alone through that.” 

“Hey.” You leaned as far as you could, to guide his hand away with one hand while the other used his chin to turn his face toward you. “I wasn’t alone and we’re okay. It’s just my body getting ready.” Daryl’s head tilted, his expression displaying his gratitude for your attempts at consolation but also heavy laden with guilt for leaving you there. “Daryl, you had to go.”

“Didn’t hafta do nothin’. Could’a stayed right here where ya need me to be.” 

He hadn’t asked what you had been doing. Maybe it wasn’t that important to him after all. He seemed to be more concerned with what happened and how you currently felt than anything. You truly needed to start trusting him as you wanted so badly for him to trust you. Your palm left his face and wrapped around the back of his neck, not needing much pressure to pull him to you for your lips to press against his. It was gentle and chaste, his hand leaving your belly to cup your jaw.

“We’re okay and you’re here now.” You soothed, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Just—no more runs until Thumper’s here, okay?”

“No more runs.” He agreed, his eyes closed, forehead against yours. “Ain’t leavin’ ya again.” His hand lowered back to your belly, rubbing back and forth. It was always the most tender thing you’d ever seen from him. You didn’t think him the type but he actually seemed to be calmed by the action. “D’ya need anythin’?”

“Just you.” You let him help you lie back, but he didn’t follow. 

“Need to clean up. I’ll be quick.” He made to stand up but you grabbed his forearm and pulled yourself up again, not stopping once you got there. He gave in to your incessant tugging and wrapped his arms around you. “You’re gonna need to change too now.” You sniffled, trying hard not to cry, but you were just so overwhelmed with relief that he was back in one piece, that nothing bad had truly happened, that he was going to stay. “Don’t cry, woman. M’here.”

“I know. I’m just—I’m happy. I have you and Thumper. And—I don’t deserve you, Daryl Dixon.”

Daryl scoffed, rubbing his cheek against the crown of your head. “Ya deserve way better than me, Sunshine.” He took a deep breath that actually shifted you against his chest and then he was tightening his embrace. “But I love ya. An’ m’here unless ya tell me to get lost.” He pulled away before you could say anything, heading quickly for the door with one last look before he walked out. You were stunned frozen, silent. 

He said it.

He said it and you could feel that he meant it. His actions had always conveyed it, but hearing it from his mouth was everything. 

Thumper rolled and kicked before going still, reacting to all the emotions you were feeding to them through your bond. When you laid down again, it wasn’t hard to fall asleep. No wicked images formed behind your eyes. Just those words replaying in your head, a baby’s tiny hand gripping a large finger. A child’s giggle. And then his voice again.

Your eyes didn’t want to obey when you bid them to open, the mattress dipping beside you, the sheets moving. A warm arm pulled you against an even warmer body, enveloping you in a veil of safety.

Everything would be okay.

Because you loved Daryl.

And Daryl loved you.

[eggcompany]

Kill a Dixon Part 4

“Um, Miss… Miss Lori?” Daryl said nervously. He was sitting in front of a big pile of socks that were spreading across the coffee table, matching together fuzzy pink ones and ones with extra support and special ones that helped Lori’s pregnancy cankle situation. But behind him the woman was watching some TV show and combing through Daryl’s hair.

Daryl didn’t mind. 

Actually he was really enjoying the way her nails scratched against his greasy and probably still dirty scalp. He hadn’t washed his hair while at Officer Walsh’s but he had rinsed it well. It was dirty, yes but not too bad. He liked the way her pink would graze his ear every so often and how cool her hands felt on his forehead and ear. It made him feel safe. 

He was in a nice cozy home, with a full stomach, wearing fresh cleaned clothes with a very nice lady petting his hair while matching up nice clean socks. It was like… like a dream. 

“Yeah, Daryl? What is it?” Lori said and sat up a bit to look down at the boy. She was having a nice time. Daryl was very helpful. He got her a glass of water when she asked, brought her the piles of folded clothes so she didn’t have to walk from the bedroom to the living room, and she had to admit that he was really like a kicked puppy. He had no manners whatsoever and didn’t really know how to do everyday housework but he tried. He tried and he learned quickly. 

Daryl just swallowed and kept his eyes down. 

“Are they gonna make me stay with my daddy? Officer Walsh and Officer Grimes, are they gonna make me stay? I know I cain’t live with Officer Walsh and I cain’t stay here but-”

“You can stay here. Actually you will stay here. Down in the basement, now it’s not really fully finished but there’s a bathroom and we just had to put a bed into storage that we can put down there. We’ve got all the supplies to finish it but then Rick was promoted and then Carl happened and we haven’t had time since.” Lori said and started hatching out a plan. It would give Daryl a space but also be separated from the main house. Plus the door down locked from the outside if ever Daryl misused their trust, or someone came to hurt him they could lock their asses down there because no one’s ever gonna hurt this poor ba-

Lori stopped her thoughts and almost giggled to herself. She was almost glad the young man was bringing her maternal ways to light. Preparing her for everything she’ll feel for Carl, to a lesser degree but preparing nonetheless. 

Daryl turned around and looked at her with those beautiful blue eyes, loose socks falling to the floor from his lap. 

“Why?” The man said quietly and kept looking at her. Why were all these people being so kind? So caring? It hurt Lri’s feelings. 

She reached out and cupped his chin, feeling the few wiry hairs that inhabited it. 

“Because I said so. Rick can talk to the low income housing people and get them to see reason. I’m sure we can find you a job, at least something to get you some money until you can find a job you like. You don’t have to stay here, no one’s gonna make you stay or go. I have a good feeling about you Daryl, and I think you feel the same way about me.” Lori said in all sincerity while staring into Daryl’s eyes, making sure he understood. Daryl just stared at her and nodded after a moment. His face turning red and tears welling in the corners of them. 

Lori wiped the ones that started to fall and gave him a smile before leaning back. 

“Plus I’m pregnant and if you try to argue with me, I’ll cry.” She said in a joking way but Daryl just sat up on his knees and sniffed a little and looked right at her with seriousness. 

“I promise I won’t make you cry.” He said and she laughed. He looked confused but she just scratched at his head and he smiled. 

Soon her three valiant men were back. Shane hugged her and left to go back to work, Rick got ready for his shift and put dinner in the crock pot, and Daryl showed Lori all his stuff. She sat down on the couch and looked at his measly belongings. He had an old battered blue canvas backpack which was packed with one plastic comb, two foldable hunter’s knives, three sleeveless button downs, a pair of tattered blue jeans, and a picture of a woman sitting on a couch holding a baby while smoking a cigarette. He also had a cross boy with four arrows which he left on the porch. 

Lori helped him put the clothes in the wash and helped her down the stairs to the basement. 

“Oh you just didn’t put the insulation and the plywood up. You just gotta use screws, it’s easy, look.” Daryl said and started lifting things into place like a puzzle. Lori handed him screws once she found where Rick had left the drill, luckily it was on the charger. 

Once he had the last of the boards put into place he was sweaty and hungry and tired. It had been a few hours, so they went up and ate what Rick had made. 

That’s usually how the first few days went. 

Daryl slept on Rick and Lori’s couch. He got up before them and sat on their porch and watched the sun rise. Rick woke up and made breakfast for Lori to eat in bed and left a plate on the table for Daryl. Lori and Rick got showers ( shower usually) then Daryl waited for Lori in the laundry room and did up the laundry with her seated on the bench folding. 

They talked a lot. Daryl had never felt like he wanted to talk to anyone. He told her about his mom, Merle’s habits and friends, and of course eventually he told her about what daddy had done. Told her crying on the couch about the men. It had always been men that hurt him. And with cool calm hands she’d pet down his back and listen. At night she’d shed a few tears telling Rick that she wanted to swaddle up the boy and carry him around in her pocket and that she hopes those men rot in the worst corner of hell. 

They’d eat lunch, Shane would call or come by to check on him and bring him stuff. Comic books since Daryl had mentioned that he couldn’t read all that well, some good socks and new underwear since Daryl didn’t have very many, and of course he brought over new documents from the court house. 

Then Shane would leave or hang up, Rick would fuss about how Daryl could eat whatever he wanted since he ‘wouldn’t be worth keeping if he was gonna wither away’, and he’d leave. They’d go to the basement, Daryl and Lori, and work on drywall and paint. Daryl was always careful not to get anything on Lori and to not make too loud of noise. Lori however laughed and flicked paint at him saying that she wasn’t made of glass. 

Daryl found that he rather liked having his walls painted warm brown, a familiar color as his walls back home were dark wood shiplap. So they painted them brown and Shane helped him put the bed in the main room, just a boxspring and a mattress on the floor. Daryl was so happy he couldn’t contain his smile. 

Then he had sheets and a blanket and an orange and black patterned quilt. He had food and his own chores to finish. He had a routine. And he was never happier. 

Lori helped him look for jobs while Shane found out where would take him if he asked. Lori found that Daryl liked quiet jobs, solitary jobs. He also liked mechanics and had taken a mechanics class in highschool and had a few certifications. He had thought about a job as a cook at a diner but then one day Shane had come in with a smile and a pat on the back. 

A salvage yard. All he did was take things apart and toy things to different areas. It was the best. So then his routine changed. He got up, showered, put on his uniform, and caught the bus. He worked from nine till noon, walked three blocks to a little cafe where a very nice lady, Carol, had a cup of ice tea and the special of the day waiting for him, and walked back to work until three. Then he would walk around in the alleys and look for stray cats and maybe do a bit of dumpster diving. Shane would pick him up on the corner near the bank and drive him home. He would get a shower in his bathroom, put his laundry in the washer, and eat dinner with Miss Lori. 

Sometimes Rick was home during dinner but most of the time he wasn’t. 

He’d started a habit of putting all the clean laundry from the week in the round white basket and every Saturday him and Miss Lori would watch House MD and fold laundry. 

Rick told him he could stay as long as he wanted. So Daryl made a home. He found a gray patterned area rug and a floor lamp in his dumpster diving which ended up actually not looking too bad in his little apartment. 

He bought Miss Lori snacks and brought her little pastries from the cafe because he didn’t have the heart to tell Miss Carol that he really didn’t like sweets. He even made some friends at the yard. There was the owner, Dale, who would tell him all sorts of cool tips and tricks and mostly worked on his own projects. There was a little asian guy who came around every Monday looking for parts for his mustang that was older than he was and always falling apart. He ended up being a really nice guy who Daryl could tease with and talk to. The guy, Glenn, eventually started coming around to hang out and talk to Daryl. 

Then Glenn and Dale start talking and they end up having beers after work on Friday’s before Glenn’s shift at the pizza shop. Then Glenn starts bringing around this girl, his girlfriend, Maggie, and her and Daryl hit it off. 

So Daryl’s routine changes again. 

Eventually he finds a nice apartment in the building next to Glenn and Maggie’s. Rick and Lori send him off with the bed they let him have, a recipe book of easy cheap recipes, and promise that they’d always be there for him. Of course Lori had made him promise to come to the hospital when Carl was born, only a few weeks away. 

“He’ll need his Uncle Daryl after all.” She had said which caused him to cry like a baby right there in the doorway. 

Sundays were for visiting Lori and Rick and helping do laundry and the week's episode of House MD. 

Mondays were for talking to Glenn, changing his bed sheets (Miss Lori demanded of it) and occasionally going and renting a movie. 

Tuesdays were for cleaning his apartment and grocery shopping with Miss Lori. 

Wednesdays were Dinner at the Grimes residence and Daryl always did his best to bring something. Most of the time though it was a small package of beers and those fizzy cherry drinks Miss Lori liked. 

Thursdays he smashed cars and played checkers with Dale. 

Fridays he had a beer after work with Dale, Glenn, and Maggie. They listen to the radio and sometimes play checkers. 

Saturdays are for sleeping in and going with the flow. Sometimes Glenn came over, sometimes he went to Miss Lori’s, and sometimes he laid in bed all day. 

And every week was similar but slightly different. 

Soon enough he was going to the Grimes residence more and more often again. He was cleaning and cooking and rocking a little tiny baby in his arms. Lori would fall asleep anywhere she could and Daryl would be happier than hell to rock little Carl or feed him a bottle. 

Then he found a little puppy hiding under a car in the yard. Mangy and dirty and smaller than his hand. Daryl had taken the day off and took the little thing to the vet. 

At the end of the day Daryl was proud of himself. He had a place of his own, a good job, a sort-of nephew, a dog called Dog, and most important of all he finally had the one thing he’d never had before, a family. A family found in a husband and wife and a sweet little baby, a bachelor, a mechanic, a pizza delivery boy and his girl, a cafe owner, and a mutty puppy dog.

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 603, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character, injured baby, kidnapped child

WORDS: 1123

“Hello, Elizabeth! Hello Elle! Hello Katie! Hello Jing! Hello Isabelle!” I greeted the incoming swarm of girls and their American Girl look alikes. Elizabeth had Katie’s backpack slung up onto her shoulder along with hers and was helping the injured girl stump her way up the stairs from the garage into the laundry room. “How was school today?”

“I made a 3D cast for Katie today during lunch period!” Elizabeth announced. “I consulted a bunch of extremely informative articles on Google and Mx. Walker helped me get much of the concept down!”

“Oh, how cool!” I said, smiling as she dumped their backpacks at the door into the dining room before helping her older sister into the house.

“I also had Ryley on standby for if I happened to have any questions!” Elizabeth continued to happily bubble as she kicked off her shoes and settled them into the shoe cubby.

“Oh?” I smiled as Katie collapsed onto the couch in the sunroom, tossing her leg up as she settled herself.

“Yeah, she told me that she would like to do another set of X-rays before she fits the new cast to her broken foot to make certain that the break has stabilized and the swelling had gone down enough!” she continued chattering on, going back to take the discarded backpacks back up to her’s and her sister’s bedrooms. “She also told me just to come in whenever for the X-rays and to have the cast fitted! And also- this is for you and daddy!”

Here, she dropped a piece of paper that was folded into an origami airplane from the second floor landing. I looked up as the airplane landed smoothly onto the kitchen island.

I dried my hands off before opening the envelope.

“LITTLE GIRL IS HERE!” Katie suddenly yelled, having obviously just seen the sleeping baby.“Inside voice now, mo stór,” I scolded her, flattening the paper and reading the incident report filed against one Daryll Johnson- apparently, his wild ways was typical behavior, and that Principal Mayers had ordered an at home suspension while a verdict was discussed about his assault on the Ratajczyk child. She also said that once a decision had been reached, that a meeting will be called between my husband, myself, the school principal, the boy’s parents, the head of the school’s special education department, the boy’s teacher, Katie’s IEP case manager, Niome Wyns and the on campus police officer, who had apparently been a witness to the little terror injuring Katie. “Well, I’m happy that at least some accountability is being taken!” I muttered, neatly folding up the letter and then sticking it onto the refrigerator underneath a bright yellow magnet. “Do you want help with dinner tonight mommy?” Elizabeth called out as she bounded back down the stairs and skipped her way back into the kitchen. “Oh, I’m just going to pop a few pizzas into the oven, but of course I would welcome your help!” I told her, smiling as she opened the refrigerator door to pull out stuff for a salad. She spied the giant bag of garlic knots and tugged that out as well, getting a sheet pan readied for the garlic knots to be slid into the oven as well.“Mo stór, do you want to eat dinner on mommy’s and daddy’s bed tonight?” I called out, already knowing the answer. DING DONGDING DONGDING DONG

“I can get it, mommy!” Katie announced, throwing her legs off from the couch, and limping her way over towards the front door while dancing around Daisy, opening it and greeting James before granting him entrance.

“Hihi Katie! Oh wow- look at your foot!” James greeted her, glancing down at the scribble covered cast on her foot. “Hihi Peter- I bought Nessa’s overnight bag- should I run upstairs and go put it into her big girl bedroom?”

“Sure!” Peter called out from where he was buried beneath all the babies.

“Mommy? Do you have something like a ruler that I can borrow?” Katie came wobbling into the kitchen just then, Mittens following close behind. “My leg feels itchy.”

“Here!” I quickly located the foot long ruler from the junk drawer and handed it to her, watching as she pulled out a chair at the dining room chair and used the ruler to scratch at the annoying itch underneath her cast.

“Thank you, mommy!” Katie grinned before James appeared in the doorway.

“Well, I’m off now!” he announced, opening his arms for a goodbye hug. “Goodbye MC! Goodbye Elizabeth! Goodbye Elle! Goodbye Katie! Goodbye Jing!”

“Goodbye, Mr. James!” Katie called out with a smile on her face as she continued to scratch at the itch on her leg.

“Oh, hello!” James laughed just then on his way out of the front door. “Going in?”

“Yes, I’m here to pick up my daughter,” Walter said awkwardly, coming into the house and greeting Daisy with an affectionate pat on top of her head.

“Daddy!” screeched Baby Kit joyfully.

“Hello there, kitty cat!” he laughed, plucking her from my husband. “Thanks again! Should I drop her off same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, works for me!” Peter chuckled, setting the other babies back down before raising to his feet and making his way into the kitchen to kiss me. “Sweetheart. When is dinner?”Mo stór, my dear, Irish Gaelic

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[theteasetwrites]

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 68: To the Bone

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ❧ Era: Season 9 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, scary situation ❧ Word Count: 8k (I am so sorry besties)

❧ In This Chapter: Four months after the devastating mass murder, a blizzard hits. Daryl leaves to help the Kingdom move to the Hilltop, and you stay behind to take care of the kids. When the snowstorm forces you to share close quarters with Negan, you find yourself coming to terms with what happened, and whether or not you can forgive.

❧ A/N: I love writing Reader and Negan scenes, but even more than that, I love Daddy Daryl. Lots of cute Daddy Daryl in this chapter, with lots of drama in between. Also couldn't resist using this scene for the gif. How wholesome???

All those years you spent in Georgia, they made you forget how harsh Virginia winters could be.

You remembered that first winter in Alexandria. It was hard, and poor Daryl, he had never even left Georgia before, so when the snow came tumbling down, chilling the man who insisted he “never got cold” to his very core, he wasn’t prepared for it.

Of course, it snowed in Georgia, but very little in comparison. Daryl grew up in the snowier part, the northern Blue Ridge region. In the rural mountain town he grew up in, there was snowfall, but even then, he’d never experienced a blizzard, not like the one that was threatening to encapsulate northern Virginia in a raging snowglobe.

Having grown up in northern Virginia, you were a little more accustomed to the heavy snow, but still, you’d never lived to see a blizzard. They were relatively rare, and the last recorded snow storm you knew about was in the winter of 1996, when you happened to be visiting your grandparents in Georgia.

The winters you’d seen at Alexandria had been hard, but not deadly. This year, however, was inordinately cold, and the snow had begun to fall sooner and heavier. The incoming threat of the blizzard was formally recognized by the council just days before Daryl, Michonne, and Aaron would leave to help the Kingdom make the journey to the Hilltop.

The entire settlement was already in bad condition, with pipes breaking and fires raging. The unusual coldness of that winter didn’t help matters, and soon it was determined that the living conditions at the Kingdom were no longer safe.

Without a singular leader after the Whisperer attack four months earlier, the Hilltop had organized a council, much like that of Alexandria. After several failed attempts to reach Maggie, who they had hoped would offer help, they decided that the best course of action would be to offer sanctuary for the citizens of the Kingdom. After all, it would strengthen their numbers greatly, and with the idle yet looming threat of the Whisperers, it would be an advantage.

So, Daryl did what he usually did: he stepped up, offered to help lead the caravan of Kingdom refugees to the Hilltop. With the winter storm approaching, they were going to need all the help they could get. He was also hoping to bring Lydia to Alexandria, as she had been promised asylum there, and you wanted to have her stay in your home.

In fact, that was your latest project: getting Lydia’s room ready.

With a fresh coat of paint and some tidying up, the basement looked much more welcoming than it had before. It even had a few high windows in the foundation, so it seemed like a perfect space for the teenager to stay—private, yet homey.

You were putting the finishing touches on Lydia’s bed, covering it with a homemade quilt Bev had given you last year for Christmas. You tried not to think too much about the memory, but it hit you when you came across the neat, meticulous stitching on the border of the quilt:

For (Y/N), my dearest friend

It brought both tears and a weak smile to your face, remembering how excited she was to give that quilt to you. It took her ages to make it, and you’d accidentally walked in on her once when she was stitching it. She threw the quilt behind her couch and stood up to greet you nervously, trying to peel your attention away from the bit of fabric peeking out behind the sofa.

“Mommy!” called Robin from the top of the stairs leading to the basement.

You quickly wiped your tears and sniffled. “Yes?” you called out to her.

“Daddy’s leaving! He said you better get your butt up here and say goodbye right now!”

Knowing Daryl, he didn’t say “butt.”

You replaced the pillows on the bed, and extinguished the lantern on Lydia’s bedside table.

“Coming!”

He was by the front door, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder and adjusting the strap resting diagonally across his broad chest.

You patted Robin on the head as you met her at the top of the steps of the basement, and she quickly zoomed up the stairs to the second floor. Your eyes widened at her sudden burst of energy. “Where are you going, Speedy Gonzalez?”

She called out to you as she continued running up the stairs. “I have to give something to Daddy before he leaves!”

Daryl shook his head and scoffed. “She’s ‘bout as crazy as you,” he said, before you cut him off by kissing his lips, slightly chapped from the dry winter air.

He tangled one hand in your hair, the other caressed your waist and pulled you against him. “Be careful,” you said against his lips, rubbing his warm chest up and down with your chilled hands. “I know this couldn’t wait any longer, but I wish you were doing this after the imminent blizzard. You know, the one Eugene said would have broken records back in the day.”

He rolled his eyes before pecking your lips one more time. “Yeah, what does he know?”

You shook your head and laughed. “A lot. He’s been reading all about blizzards, you know. Checked out every book on weather and atmospheric science.” You paused as you caught a glimpse of Daryl’s attire—a tattered simple black coat. “That’s all you’re wearing?”

He looked down at his body and shrugged. “Got layers underneath.”

You shook your head. “Where’s that poncho? You’re going to need at least one more layer.”

He huffed as you turned to the coat rack, and pulled from the tangle of coats a large grey and black mohair poncho.

“Nah,” he said with a shake of his head, his hair flapping against his face. “Told ya, I’m fine, woman.”

Without listening, you stripped Daryl of his crossbow, pulling it over his head and messing up his hair. He grumbled, and cursed a little as he felt the head hole of the poncho disturb his mop of brown locks again.

You flattened out the warm garment, smiling and admiring how cute he looked in it. “There,” you said, quite satisfied with yourself. You reached out your hands to smooth his hair, soft from your homemade shampoo. “Now you look nice and warm, and very handsome.”

He grimaced, and scrunched his face when you planted a kiss on his nose. “Gimme back my bow,” he said.

You sighed and reached down to pick up the clunky weapon. “Here. Promise me you’ll be safe?”

“Yeah,” he huffed, replacing his crossbow over his shoulder.

“And you won’t do anything stupid?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ll come back in one piece?”

He shook his head and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in for one more kiss before he left. “I promise,” he said after your lips parted. “Don’t worry about me, just worry about our kids.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was talking about Robin, and Dog. “Yes, our daughter and the dog I gave birth to. I’ll keep ‘em safe.”

He looked up and over at the staircase with furrowed brows. “Where’s that little terror anyway? Robin!”

You hit his shoulder, scolding him for calling your bundle of joy a “little terror.”

“I’m here!” her little voice called out from her room, and not a moment later, she began running down the steps, her hands behind her back where she held whatever she was going to give to Daryl.

“Slow down!” you cried. “You’ll fall again!”

The day Robin fell down the last few steps of the staircase was the day you saw Daryl the most terrified he’d been since the two of you came within an inch of being blown to bits at the CDC, and she only got a bruise on her elbow.

Daryl outstretched his hands and made a “gimme” gesture.

“Whatcha got for me, peanut?”

She smiled sheepishly, then pulled from behind her a beaded charm bracelet. Ever since Carol gifted her that necklace, she had begun an interest in jewelry making, and it seemed even Daryl couldn’t escape her rampage of beads and twine.

“It’s a bracelet,” she said, holding it before Daryl in her small hands. He kneeled down to get a better look at the craft, with its assortment of blue beads, each a different shade, and in the center, a series of lettered beads spelling out the name DIXON. “I made one for Mommy too.”

Daryl delicately took the bracelet in his hands as she pulled from the pocket of her parka a similarly designed bracelet, only with beads of lavender and rose colors, but the same very same letters in the center.

“Wow!” you exclaimed, graciously accepting the gift. “These are beautiful, sweet pea. You did this all by yourself?”

She nodded proudly. “Mhm, in class. Wanna see mine?”

Both you and Daryl nodded as you each slipped on your bracelets, both on your left wrists.

Robin procured her bracelet, with mismatched beads of shades of green, her favorite color, and, of course, DIXON in alphabet beads. “So everyone knows we’re Dixon’s,” she said. “And it’s for good luck.”

Daryl pulled the girl in for a hug, lifting her off her feet and twirling her around, to which she giggled in delight. “No one’s ever had any trouble knowin’ you’re a Dixon, birdie.” He pecked her softly on the nose, tickling her with his scruff. “Thanks, I love it. I ain’t never takin’ it off.”

“Good,” she replied. “I won’t take mine off neither.” She looked at you with a teasing grin. “You won’t take yours off, right, Mommy?”

You smiled, looking up from your bracelet, which you had gotten lost in admiring. “Of course I won’t. It’s beautiful.”

With a grunt, Daryl set Robin back on her feet, and bid her goodbye before he left to rendezvous with Michonne, Aaron, and the other volunteers from Alexandria at the gate. Of course, he gave her a few instructions before he left.

“Take care of Dog,” he said. “And be good for your momma.” He knew that last instruction was unnecessary, since Robin was an angel, and rarely caused trouble.

She nodded dutifully. “I’ll take care of Dog and Momma.”

Shortly after Daryl left, you went over to Michonne’s to pick up Judith and RJ, who were trusted to stay with you while she was gone.

Over that night, the snow only got worse, and the generators gave out that next morning, so there were no heaters to speak of. The storm was beginning, and swirls of snow came winding through every crevice of Alexandria, and with each hour, the winds got stronger and faster.

Eugene came to your doorstep and informed you that the solar panels were out of commission due to the snow, and that “winter one ice-storm protocol” was now in effect.

“What?” you asked, genuinely having no idea what that meant, and you were on the council.

He huffed, folding his arms over his chest to keep warm. “It’s gonna be colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bra.”

The plan was to split the town into three groups, each at different locations with the largest working fireplaces—Aaron’s house, Barbara’s house, and the meeting house.

Your household joined the latter group,

When Eugene helped escort you, the children, and Dog to the meeting house, you all held hands in a chain, the children between yourself and Eugene as you trudged through the thick flurries of white hitting your faces.

Dog was walking alongside Robin, who had tied his leash loosely around her wrist. When the wind knocked over a pale somewhere in the distance, the metallic bang must’ve alerted the astute canine, causing him to break free and run off into the white void.

“Dog!” she yelled after him.

“Come back!” cried Judith. “Dog!”

You kept your hand laced around Robin’s tightly, though you felt her tugging, trying to run after him. You heard him barking in the distance, but it got further and further away, and soon there was no pinpointing his location. “We’ve got to get out of this storm!” you told her and the other children, screaming over the swirling, deafening wind. “We’ll find him later! Let’s go!”

Upon entering the meeting house, you were relieved to shake off the snow that had settled on the children’s clothes, though you were less than pleased to see a familiar, obnoxious face staring at you from across the room.

“What the hell is he doing here?” you asked Gabriel after you got the children settled by the fireplace. “He’s supposed to be in his cell, not out here with us.”

Gabriel shook his head. “(Y/N), he’d freeze to death down there, you know that. It’s inhumane.”

Your eyes widened. “Well, I think it’s inhumane that he’s still even alive,” you whispered, trying not to say such a thing for Robin to hear. “I don’t want him around the kids.”

Though you were aware from talks with Michonne that Judith had a habit of visiting Negan in his cell, and even considered him a friend, you had been pretty good about keeping Robin from Negan.

All the children were curious about Alexandria’s lone prisoner, including your daughter. She had asked Daryl about him once, and he told her he was a bad man who deserved to be where he was, and that she should never go near him.

The older she got, the more curious she became, and you worried that soon she’d hang around Negan’s window, too.

It didn’t matter now, because the man was in the very same room as your little girl. He might’ve been chained up, but his mouth was still capable of moving, and sure enough, it did.

“Well, shit,” he exclaimed. “Is that you, (Y/N)?”

You crossed your arms and avoided eye contact, trying to keep your attention on Gabriel.

“I haven’t seen you in… years.” He broke out into a smug smile, roaming his eyes over your body. “Man, you look good.”

Gabriel extended his hand towards Negan, as if to tell him to shut up. “Look,” he said, “I know it’s strange having him here with all of us, and believe me, I don’t like it either, but we’re supposed to be keeping him alive, and that’s what we’re doing, like it or not.”

You sighed, knowing Gabriel was technically in charge. He was the head of the council, and any big decisions in Alexandria went through him. Michonne might’ve been head of security, but she wasn’t here right now, and Gabriel was.

“For the record, as a council member” you said, “I don’t like it.”

He nodded in understanding. “Noted.”

The darkness of night settled in, and the storm raged on outside, with the wind whistling through the building, punctuating the murmurs of the other Alexandrians talking amongst themselves, waiting for the storm to pass and retreating into their parkas for warmth.

In an act of hasty preparedness, you brought along two duffel bags and a backpack full of blankets, pillows, snacks, water, extra sweaters and coats, lanterns, and you stuffed the children’s backpacks before you left with puzzles and books to entertain themselves.

Still, no matter how much you tried to take Robin and Judith’s minds off Dog, they huddled together by the window, looking out through the curtain at the storm to see if he was out there.

Of course, it worried you, and you headed over to them, resting your hands on their shoulders. “Hey,” you said softly, “he’s going to be fine. He’s got lots of that thick fur, and he’s smart. I’ll bet he’s found himself a nice cozy little hiding spot, away from the snow. Why don’t you come help RJ with the puzzle? It’s cold by the window.”

Robin pouted, looking between you and the older Judith. “Daddy asked me to take care of him,” she said sadly. “I promised.”

You pushed back a strand of loose hair from her face. “Daddy would want you to be safe and warm above all else. Come on, away from the window, both of you.”

You pulled Robin away by the hand, and Judith followed, finally settling down at the table where five-year-old RJ was working on the puzzle of Starry Night by Van Gogh.

Moving to the fireplace, you poured yourself a mug of coffee from the pot, surprising even yourself, as you hated coffee. Still, it was warm, and you were cold. Very, very cold.

“You good, sweetheart?” Negan’s voice asked you.

You huffed and turned to face him. “Fine,” you said brusquely, and turned to retreat back to the children.

“She yours?”

You bit your lip and debated upon answering. Something in your mind told you that even Negan was a person, and even he needed someone to talk to, but you always tried to push that voice down, insisting upon holding your justified grudge against him for everything he’d done, to you and your family.

“Yes,” you said, assuming he was talking about Robin.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

You turned to face him, now both irritated and confused by his line of questioning. “I think I should know, since she came out of me.”

He laughed, and you’d gone so long without hearing that laugh, but now here you were. “You know what I think? I think Daryl somehow spawned that little girl on his own, replicated his DNA or something, ‘cause that little girl, she’s pure Daryl.”

“You don’t know Daryl,” you said. “You don’t know me, and you certainly don’t know my daughter.”

He whistled quietly. “Ooo, that hurts, (Y/N). I forgot how cold you are… You’re like… an ice queen. Ironically, that’s pretty hot. How is my Daryl, anyway? He still… doin’ whatever the hell he does? More importantly, he keepin’ you… satisfied?”

Your nostrils flared and your heart began to pump rapidly, and through your veins you felt liquid fire coursing through, burning your skin.

You stepped closer, not wanting the kids to hear you.

“I don’t have the patience right now to deal with your smartass, perverted comments. I’ve got three kids and a dog to look after, my husband and my brother are out there in a blizzard, my best friend is dead, and on top of all of that, I’m colder than death and stuck with you of all people, so don’t test me. I’m not in the mood.”

He held his hands up in self-defense, clanging the chain that connected to his hand-cuff against the cot he was confined to.

“Sorry I asked,” he said with a laugh. “Look, I’m just tryin’ to make conversation.”

You were about to open your mouth, burning at the chance to tell him exactly what you thought about him for the first time, but you felt a tugging on your coat, and looked down to see Robin looking back up at you, curiosity sparkling in those deep-set blue eyes that reminded you so of Daryl.

“Mommy,” she said, “where’s my rabbit?”

Her eyes cautiously peered at Negan, who was smiling at her, and lifting his hand to give a small wave in her direction.

“Hi, there,” he said. You looked at him with hard, furious eyes, yet tried to remain composure in front of the little girl. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

She smiled back at him. For some reason, children gravitated to Negan, much like they did to Daryl. The only difference to you was that Negan was evil, and Daryl was the opposite in every way.

“Robin,” she said. “What’s your name?”

You huffed, trying to keep from appearing rude to Negan, knowing Robin would pester you about it.

Negan enjoyed hearing the girl’s voice addressing him, and smiled even wider. “My name’s Negan,” he said happily. “What’s this about a rabbit?”

“Her stuffed rabbit,” you said flatly, trying to get the man to stop talking to her. “Come on, let’s go find him.” You knew where it was, it was in one of the duffel bags you’d packed, but you wanted to get away from Negan, too. His voice was grating against your ears now.

“Can we find Dog after?” she asked.

Negan furrowed his brow. “Dog?”

“Dog’s our dog,” she said. “He got lost in the snow.”

Before Negan could say anything, you practically dragged Robin away.

“Don’t talk to him,” you whispered, leading her over to the table where RJ and Judith were still working on the puzzle. “That’s the man Daddy told you about. He’s bad.”

She looked back at Negan, who smiled at her again. “Is that why he’s chained up?”

“Exactly,” you said, kneeling down to search your duffel for Robin’s rabbit. “Here. He’s right here, baby.”

You handed her her bunny, and as you did, Judith spoke up.

“He’s not bad,” she said. “He’s changed.”

Judith knew more about what Negan had done from speaking with him, and she still seemed to forgive him, which made you wonder if he had told her everything he had done, like brutally murdering Glenn and Abraham.

You sighed. “Let’s not talk about people when they’re in the same room,” you said, knowing even Negan deserved a shred of respect, though not much.

Suddenly, Negan’s voice cut through the quiet crackle of the fire.

“Does anybody else smell something?” he asked.

“Can you stop being such an asshole?” asked Siddiq, who was getting tired of Negan’s constant remarks on the situation with Rosita’s newly discovered pregnancy.

She’d been involved with Siddiq briefly, and then moved on to Gabriel, whom she was currently with. She was able to determine, however, that the baby she was carrying belonged to Siddiq, and Negan found this dynamic terribly fascinating.

“No, he’s right,” replied Rosita. “Something does smell funky in here.”

You lifted your head to sniff a little better. “Smells like… tar.”

Eugene sprung into action. “Get away from there!” he cried to Siddiq and Gabriel, who were standing at the fireplace. He pushed them away just as an explosion erupted from the base of the fire, sending all three of them back, and causing you to jump to your feet and grab all three of your wards, moving away from the fire with great haste.

“Shit,” you sighed when the explosion died down.

Creosote buildup in the chimney, exacerbated by the less than stellar ventilation in the crowded, closed up building. That’s what caused the explosion, according to Eugene, and you were just glad the explosion wasn’t worse.

Still, it would have been unwise to start another fire, and everyone was quickly getting cold without the source of heat. You suggested heading to Aaron’s house, where some of the others were hunkering down. Everyone was on board with the plan, and you just hoped Aaron had been taking good care of his chimney.

Now, you had to figure out just how you were all going to get there, when there was a white whirlwind of thick, relentless snow outside.

Gabriel devised a plan, taking a long rope and having everyone in your group hold on to it as you walked.

You made sure to have RJ, Judith, and Robin right in front of you, urging them all to hold on tight before Gabriel opened the door to that cruel, blinding blizzard.

You couldn’t see anything besides what was immediately in front of you—three bobbing heads of the young children. You even felt the presence of Negan behind you, and hated every moment of him not being chained up, but it would have been impossible for him to hold onto the rope.

As long as you had your sights on those kids, everything would be fine. Still, flurries of snow hit your eyes, burning them with the cold as a distant bark rang out from beyond your limited field of vision.

Robin’s eyes widened at the sound. “Dog!” she cried, with Judith following suit and calling out for the animal.

Your eyes shot open at the screams, and just as they did, you felt the rope waggle between your hands as Robin and Judith let go and ran towards the barks.

“Robin! Judith!” you screamed into the white, swirling void, watching their tiny, frantic silhouettes disappear into nothingness. “No!”

You heard the others call out to them, too, and in an instant, you had let go of the rope, running in their direction and getting lost in the dizzying blizzard.

“Robin! Judith!” you cried desperately, now feeling every hair stand on end and every nerve in your body alight with fear. “Come back!”

No, no, no, you thought, over and over and over again. Not my baby.

You didn’t even notice his presence behind you this time, not until you felt him touch your shoulder. You turned around swiftly to lay eyes on Negan.

You shook your head in utter disbelief and abject fear, absolutely unsure of what to do other than wander around and scream their names until your voice and your legs gave out from under you.

There was no time to acknowledge Negan, other than a slight nod to him. He took your hand in his rather forcefully, and pulled you with him.

At first you thought he was trying to drag you back to the others, but when you heard him call out your daughter’s name, it seemed like a fever dream rather than a cold-induced nightmare.

He was helping you.

“Judith!” he bellowed. “Robin!”

You followed suit, crying out their names again and moving with Negan, your only landmark in the white chaos all around you.

Some stray piece of wood or some other sharp object must’ve gotten swept up in the storm, because when it hit Negan’s leg, it knocked him to the ground, causing him to scream and taking you down with him in the process.

“Goddamnit, Negan!” you yelled in anger, tugging on his hand to make him stand up as quickly as he could. “Get up! Robin! Judith!”

As much as you wanted to leave him there, you knew that if you found the girls, you’d need someone else to help you bring them both back. Luckily, you had seen them holding hands just before they disappeared from your view, so they’d be together, you hoped.

He groaned as he hoisted himself back to his feet, though you knew he’d be limping now.

He called out to them again, but in response you heard the distant, familiar barking of Dog.

“Dog!” you yelled, hoping he’d come to you, and bring the girls with him. “That way!” you yelled to Negan.

He nodded and ran with you, until you saw the faint, blurred figures of Robin and Judith, holding hands as Judith tried to tie Dog’s leash back around his neck.

“There!” you yelled. “Girls!”

They didn’t respond, only moved very slowly towards you as you and Negan approached quickly. You immediately took Robin in your arms, and Negan took Judith in his.

She practically fell onto you, and you hoisted her up without a second thought, taking Dog’s leash in your other hand.

Somewhere along the way, you saw Negan give his coat to Judith, and his blanket to Robin, draping it over her shoulders, and yours, as well.

You led Negan to Aaron’s house as best you could, and after a few stumbles in the snow, you made it.

Everyone was gathered around the fireplace, huddling for warmth and relieved to see you and the children again.

Rosita rose first, dusting the snow off you and Robin and replacing Negan’s blanket with a fresh one.

“Christ, we were worried about you,” she said, moving to Judith now and helping her get to the fire. “Are you all right?”

You set Robin down on the sofa where a few Alexandrians made room for her. “We’re fine,” you said, Robin blinking at you in confusion as you held her hands in yours to warm them.

Negan huffed. “Well, shit, (Y/N),” he said. “I’m not.”

After checking in on RJ, Gracie (who had already been with the group in Aaron’s house), Judith, and Robin, you helped Negan to the kitchen where you knew Aaron kept an extensive first aid kit.

“When’d you learn stitches?” he asked, sitting on the counter as you sewed the wound on his thigh shut. He followed his question with a hiss as you threaded the needle again.

“Um… about seven years ago. Had to, with the Savior war and all that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Hey, least somethin’ good came out of it,” he said with a chuckle, though you didn’t laugh.

“Careful,” you said, not looking up at him. “I’ve got a needle in my hands.” You purposefully poked him harder than you needed him, causing him to squirm and yelp.

“Ah! Jesus, this how you treat Daryl? Suddenly I’m glad I didn’t make you one of my wives.”

“Daryl knows not to piss me off,” you said. “He’s smart like that.”

Pulling through the final stitch, you looped it around itself nimbly before clipping it short.

“There,” you said, proud of your work. “You’re fixed.”

He smiled rather smugly, as usual. “Wish we had a doctor as pretty as you,” he said. “Could use my own personal nurse down in my cell if you’re interested in the position. Lucrative pay.”

You scoffed as you put away the medical equipment. “Ask Siddiq. I’m sure he’d love to give you your prostate exams.” You snorted at your own joke, to which Negan laughed.

“That’s quite a snort,” he said, causing you to clear your throat and turn serious again. “Oh, come on, (Y/N). I know I was just about to make you crack a smile. Just a little one. Even the ice queen smiles sometimes.”

You shook your head and looked up at him. “Just because you helped save the kids doesn’t mean we’re friends now. You know what you did, not just to Daryl, but everything else too. It’ll never be good between us, so you can stop trying to make me smile. If that’s what you want, it’s not going to happen.”

“You’re chillin’ me to the bone,” he said. “I didn’t save those kids to get on your good side. I did it because I care, believe it or not. I care about Judith, and I just met her, but I care about your Robin, too. Now I’ll admit, I don’t care that much about the dog, but those kids weren’t goin’ anywhere without that mutt.”

You laughed a little at that, with just the hint of a smile as you thought about Dog and all the trouble he’d caused you over the years.

“That dog is the bane of my existence,” you said. “But I love him. More importantly, Robin and Daryl love him.”

He smiled, more genuinely than you’d ever seen him smile. There weren’t any of those obnoxious teeth, just the curve of his gently quirking lips.

“They mean a lot to you, huh?”

You looked at him in surprise at the question. “Of course,” you answered. “They mean everything to me, everything and more. They’re my family, my whole life… Do you even know what that’s like?”

It occurred to you that you had no idea about where Negan came from, the life he led before this world. You never thought about it before this, because you never really thought of Negan as a person. He was more like a symbol of everything you hated—greed, arrogance, conceit, selfishness… Now, though, sitting before you, vulnerable in his injured state, and expressing the sentiment of care, you were a little more willing to believe he might be a person.

“The Saviors were my family,” he said simply.

You tilted your head in unsatisfaction at that answer. “I’m not talking about that kind of family. I mean real family. Did you have one?”

He lowered his head and stared at his lap for a while before answering. “I had a wife… No kids. We wanted to, but… it just never happened, then she died. That’s all.” He waved his hand dismissively. “No, I’ve never had a family. Not since her.”

He fell silent, and seemed genuinely disturbed for the first time since you’d known him. Though you could never forgive him for what he had done, you could certainly feel some kind of sympathy for the man. You could even feel sympathy for someone like Alpha. Everyone was messed up, you knew that. Still, it didn’t mean you had to like everyone.

“It’s hard not to have family in this world,” you said, still trying not to look the man in the eyes. You felt more comfortable talking to him when you weren’t acknowledging that it was Negan you were talking to. “I know you didn’t save Robin and Judith for my sake, but, reluctantly, I feel like I have to say… thanks, or something.”

Negan raised his head and smiled widely, and you caught a glimpse of those obnoxious teeth before looking away in slight shame of thanking the man who kidnapped and allowed the torture, beating, and humilliation of your husband, but if he hadn’t helped you get the girls back to safety, you were sure one of them, or maybe even both, would have died out there in the freezing cold storm.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” he said, leaning forward on the bar. “Do you think you could say that again, with passion this time?”

You shot him a hard glare. “No, Negan. You heard me. Come on, let’s get you chained up again.”

You replaced the handcuff attached to the chain around his wrist. “(Y/N),” he said in an uncharacteristically soft tone, “I know you don’t forgive me, and you don’t have to… but I really, truly am sorry, for what I did to Daryl, for what I put you through.”

What you put me through, you thought.

Then you thought back to those five days without sleep, without doing much of anything besides crying and wondering if the man you loved above all else was even alive. How you were so heartbroken you couldn’t even bring yourself to smile, as the action was almost physically painful. Whenever you closed your eyes, all you could see were the splattered heads of your friends, and knowing Daryl might face the same fate… That destroyed you.

All you wanted was to hold him in your arms again, to keep him warm and safe and comfortable, away from the clutches of such a heartless man, but you couldn’t.

“You’re right,” you finally said, after thinking about Negan’s words, and trying to determine whether or not they were hollow. You came to the conclusion that you weren’t entirely sure, but you weren’t entirely convinced they were. “I don’t forgive you… But it’s a start.”

In the blizzard’s wake was a calm, mild morning, in which the snow fell as delicate as downy feathers, and finally Michonne’s group returned from their trek.

You couldn’t stop little Robin, Judith, and RJ from running outside when they heard the gates opening.

Your snow boots sank into the thick snow as you chased after them, albeit at a much slower pace. Michonne was the first to come through, and Judith jumped eagerly into her arms.

To your surprise, Carol came through next. You didn’t think she would come to stay in Alexandria, as she hadn’t lived there for going on eight years, but she was a sight for sore eyes.

You smiled at her, though she seemed rather downcast, and you couldn’t blame her, after losing Henry like she did.

Following her was Aaron, whom you met with open arms.

“You’re back,” you said, patting his back as you hugged him.

Robin ran up to him, too. “Hi, Uncle Aaron.”

“Hey, Robin,” he said with a smile, leaning down to hug her.

Lydia and Daryl trickled in, and you greeted her as Robin left Aaron to be embraced by her father.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you said to her, though you noticed a sadness in her that hurt your heart beyond words. She seemed too young to have lived such a life, and to feel as much sorrow as she no doubt felt. She felt like Henry’s death was her fault, and that was too much for a young girl to handle. “Your room is all set up. It’s in the basement, but it was remodeled before we moved in. I think you’ll like it.”

She nodded. “Thank you,” was all she could say.

An impromptu snowball fight ensued shortly after. You weren’t entirely sure who started it, but you swore you saw Daryl throw the first snowball at Robin, and she quickly retaliated, sloppily tossing a loose ball of snow at Daryl’s shoulder, where it hit as he laughed and yelped playfully.

You laughed as you looked on while RJ and Judith joined in, defending Robin and throwing snowballs at Daryl, when you felt the cold crash against your back, and saw a flurry of white exploding from behind you.

You turned to see Aaron balling up another snowball, readying it to throw at you again.

“Hey!” you laughed, and reached down to make your own snowball as a few more hit you, and soon you were being pelted with snowballs from Daryl and Robin, too. You turned around with a half-hearted glare. “You little shits!”

“Swear jar!” laughed Robin, who now was engaged in a fight with Lydia and Carol, too.

Michonne soon joined, and soon everyone was scurrying around each other, picking fights and tossing balls of soft, flaky snow at each other.

The sound of Robin’s high-pitched giggles and yelps warmed your heart so much you felt more heat than any generator could ever provide, and seeing Daryl smile so brightly for the first time in a while was worth every chill you went through the last few nights he was gone.

Only when Daryl’s snowball accidentally hit you square in the face did you feel a little too cold for comfort.

“Daryl!” you cried, both laughing and in discomfort from the sting of the cold on your face.

He rushed over to you, suddenly a little more serious, but still unable to contain the slight smile on his rosy face.

He held your cheeks in his gloved hands. “You all right?” he asked, and all around you the snowball fight had died down, with everyone dusting off their winter clothes that had become speckled with white.

You nodded, and smiled sweetly at him. He had flecks of snow embedded in his messy hair and on his shoulders, and his cheeks were red from the cold. He always looked so cute in the snow, even when he was throwing snowballs at your face.

“It was just a snowball,” you said, brushing off his shoulders before you gave him a hug. “My face is a little cold now, though… I sure could use a kiss or two from a sweet, handsome man… You wouldn’t happen to know any, would you?”

He rolled his eyes, then obliged you by kissing each of your cheeks, then your lips, in a longer, more sensual embrace.

“Ewww!” cried RJ.

Robin snickered at her parents’ affections. “Yuck!”

“Oh, yeah?” replied Daryl.

You stuck your tongue out at the five-year-olds, as Daryl leaned down to make another snowball and flung it at the children, who scurried around to hide from the renewed attack.

“Yeah, you better run!” he yelled with a laugh.

By nightfall, you had completely helped Lydia settle into her bedroom, and given her the full tour of the house. You couldn’t help but be both slightly amused and also incredibly saddened by the fact that she was so shocked at every aspect of your home, from the fact that you slept in beds, to the working plumbing and (limited) electricity.

The girl had spent most of her childhood and early adolescence living in the woods, sleeping under the stars and exposed to the elements. You expected it might be a big transition, living in a real house with amenities she hadn’t seen since before the world ended, but you hoped she would be comfortable nevertheless.

“Do you think she’s going to like it here?” you asked Daryl as you dug into his shoulders with your hands, giving him one of your prized massages he loved so much. The older he got the more he seemed to need them, with his back and shoulder muscles getting overused and overworked as they were.

He sat in between your legs on the edge of the bed, shirtless and exhausted from the expedition, which he had informed you had gotten dangerously close to becoming a Donner party situation, in more ways than one, thanks to the walkers.

He grunted and straightened his back a little as you moved down to his shoulder blades. “Might take ‘er a while to get used to it. Took us a while, and we weren’t even out there that long. She’s been out there her whole damn life almost.”

“Well,” you sighed, rubbing his tense muscles and pushing him forward a little to allow you more access to his broad back, “I’m going to try to get her situated. I was thinking, since I’m teaching the older students now, maybe I could work on transitioning her into school, and maybe have her apprentice at the library. She’d make friends there, with Emily and Quinn. It’ll be good for her.”

He nodded in agreement. “That’s a good idea. Keep ‘er busy, her mind off…” He trailed off, becoming quiet as he remembered the Whisperers.

You leaned forward, still kneading at his tight muscles. “Off what?”

He huffed, and you felt his back tightening again under your loving hands. “We crossed into Alpha’s territory last night. We had no choice, it was the quickest way, and we couldn’t wait no longer.”

You swallowed hard, terrified of the threat Alpha had made—if your people set foot on her land, she’d send her hoard through your home.

“Did they see you?”

“Dunno,” he said. “It was night, but you could hardly see anything through that blizzard.”

Tell me about it, you thought, remembering how hard it was to find Robin and Judith in that snowstorm. Of course, you weren’t going to tell him about that just yet, not until he got a good night’s sleep and had some time to relax before inevitably having a secondhand panic attack at the thought of Robin and Judith out in that weather (and Dog, too).

Moreover, if he knew Negan had gone anywhere near his little girl… Well, you were sure he’d break down Negan’s cell and put an end to him once and for all.

“Maybe they didn’t see you, then,” you said, trying to keep his worries at bay. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

He turned around, maneuvering his body until he could wrap his arms around you and pull you into his lap, then fell backwards with you in tow.

Now atop him, you snuggled into his chest and breathed in that familiar scent of pine and campfire.

“Me too,” he said, stroking your back and enjoying the feeling of your silk slip beneath his worn hands. “All I wanted to do was come home, ‘specially when that storm got real bad. Just hoped you and the kids were hunkered down and safe.”

You frowned a little against his chest, but kept your cool as you continued absentmindedly moving your fingers on his chest, intermingling them with his curly little chest hairs.

“We were,” you said. “Everyone made it. You’re home. The Kingdom’s at the Hilltop. Lydia’s here. Everything’s all right.”

“Wish I could believe that,” he said. “That day we found those pikes started somethin’. That wasn’t just a warning, that was a declaration of war. Alpha, she always knew she was gonna kill us, right when she walked up to that gate, whether we gave her Lydia or not. We might not be fightin’ ‘em right now, but it’ll happen, and when it does, we gotta be ready.”

This man never rests, you thought.

He was right, but you wished he wasn’t. You wished things could go back to how they were before all this, when you were getting bored of being a housewife, when your biggest concern was what to cook for dinner that day, or how to dress Robin for her first day of kindergarten, or who you could ask to babysit while you and Daryl had date night…

That was the life you’d wanted, and you had it, for a while. Now, it seemed another period of survival for survival’s sake was approaching, with an ill wind signaling the death and destruction to come.

Still, you would be ready. No matter how comfortable you became in your perfect little world, with your husband, your child, and your family pet in your suburban home, you couldn’t ever lose what you’d been through. That kind of thing never went away.

You really were a survivor.

“I’m ready,” you said, suddenly recalling the face of Bev on that pike, and all those other faces etched into your psyche. “I’ll do it for them.”

He seemed to know what you meant, as he held you tighter and kissed your forehead.

“Me too, angel,” he replied softly.

You nearly fell asleep there on top of him, until a deep grumble resonated through his chest and he began to speak.

“I’d let the world end a thousand times long as it means I got to meet you.”

You whimpered slightly as you came to your senses, and realized what he’d just spontaneously said.

“How long have you been practicing that one, huh?” you asked, raising your hand to scratch underneath his chin.

He huffed, and looked at you through nearly closed eyes as he enjoyed your chin scratch.

“It’s true,” he said. “I dunno if there’s a God, or any kind of reason to the way things happen, but I know I’m meant to be here with you, holdin’ you like this. Nothin’ in my life before you felt this right, this… pure. Think this whole world fell apart just for us to find each other.”

You smiled and moved your hand from his chin to his hair, where you brushed it back and combed through it gently.

“When did you get so romantic, cutie pie?” you asked.

He shrugged, then reached his hand down to pat your butt. “You rubbed off on me. Made me all soft. You and that little girl.”

You shook your head and laughed. “Well, I think you were always a big softie. It’s just who you are. You’ve got a big heart.”

Daryl leaned down to pull the covers over both of you, and maneuvered your body so you were beside him now, though still snuggled close to him. He knew you needed his warmth, just as you knew he needed yours, as much as he would never admit to being cold.

“Yeah,” he huffed, closing his eyes as he let his head sink into the pillow. “Whatever you say.”

He fell asleep shortly after that, and it must've been one of his deep sleeps, because soon he was snoring softly, and you could see the faint movement of his eyes beneath his heavy eyelids, back and forth for what seemed like hours as you watched him sleep so soundly.

Parts of the future were uncertain. There was no telling what tomorrow would bring, war or peace, love or hate, sickness or health, but as you laid there, dozing off to the warm feeling of your husband beside you, holding you in his arms as he slept, you knew Daryl was right: the world died so you and Daryl could live as one, because you were meant for each other.

Nothing could break that, not Alpha or Negan or the walkers… Nothing. If that was all you had, that and your daughter, and the rest of your family, you would be happy.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs of any kind are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

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[boltsandashes]

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑻

repost,  don’t reblog !

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL  NAME.     Daryl James Dixon NICKNAME.   none really GENDER.    cis male,  he/him HEIGHT.     5′10′’ AGE.    34-48 (depending on the verse/timeline) ZODIAC.   virgo  SPOKEN  LANGUAGES.   english

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR  COLOR.    dark brown EYE  COLOR.    blue SKIN  TONE.    fair BODY  TYPE.    medium/muscular VOICE.   mid-range, quiet, gruff DOMINANT  HAND.    right POSTURE.   slouched, deceptively relaxed SCARS.   many. scars all across his back from beatings as a child. Scar on his side where a bolt went through it, and one under his hairline where a bullet skimmed his temple (post-2x05). Another bullet scar in his shoulder (post s-6). A burn in the shape of an X on his lower back (post 9x05). A few cigarette burns, some inflicted by his father, some self-inflicted. Various small scars from fights and hunting accidents. TATTOOS.   Two demons on his right shoulder, covering some of his worst scars. A skull on his hand in memory of Rick (post 9x05), based on his “we are the walking dead” speech. BIRTHMARKS.    mole over his lip on the left side. MOST  NOTICEABLE  FEATURE(S).   eyes probably. his arms. hell, he doesn’t know, y’all are the ones looking at him.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE  OF  BIRTH.   north georgia HOMETOWN.   same place he was born in. never really got out ‘til the world ended. SIBLINGS.   Merle Dixon (older brother) PARENTS.   Will & Lilah Dixon

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION.   N/A CURRENT  RESIDENCE.  Alexandria, (or the prison, or the Virginia wild, or the Sanctuary, timeline dependent) CLOSE  FRIENDS.   Carol Peletier, Rick Grimes, Aaron, others verse dependent. RELATIONSHIP  STATUS.  single FINANCIAL  STATUS.    lower income/poverty DRIVER’S  LICENSE.   yes CRIMINAL  RECORD.   various misdemeanors VICES.   wrath, recklessness, smoking, cussing

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION.   bisexual PREFERRED  EMOTIONAL  ROLE.    submissive |  dominant  | switch. PREFERRED  SEXUAL  ROLE.    submissive  | dominant |  switch. LIBIDO.    average TURN  ONS.    boldness, fighting prowess, compliments, dirty talk, being pinned down or having his hair pulled, subtle flirting in public places. TURN  OFFS.    hypocrisy, cowardice, being called “baby” or “daddy”, being asked about the scars on his back. LOVE  LANGUAGE.   he tends to show love through acts of service or offering gifts... partly because those are the least intrusive acts; they’re ways to make his loved ones’ lives better without imposing on them. It’s hard to know what he’d value the most in terms of receiving love since he’s never really had that kind of open affection and would be pretty much in awe of receiving any of it.  RELATIONSHIP  TENDENCIES.   Daryl in a relationship tends to show affection rather than than talking about it. Giving tokens, taking on tasks for them. He’s very physically affectionate once he’s comfortable with someone, and will revel in any kind of contact and love being touched... unless he’s upset about something and then he’ll start flinching away from it. His worst relationship trait would be his tendency to close off and retreat when he’s hurting. He’s also not the type to get in his loved one’s faces if he thinks something’s wrong; he’s more likely to cut his losses and cut out, and that’s an impulse it’ll take some serious work to get over.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S  THEME  SONG.   *cries* i don’t know. you guys don’t know how often i just don’t fill out these kinds of things ‘cause i have no songs for daryl HOBBIES  TO  PASS TIME.   hunting, whittling, working on his bike, finding something to fix (he likes to feel useful), hiking, reading MENTAL  ILLNESSES.    ptsd & bouts of depression LEFT  OR  RIGHT  BRAINED.    prooobably more right brained. PHOBIAS.    (gonna go with fears, not actual phobias) losing his loved ones, having his loved ones turn their backs on him, large-scale fires, riding horses (post 2x05), confined, dark spaces (post 7x03) SELF  CONFIDENCE  LEVEL.   varies. highly confident when it comes to his skill sets –– hunting, tracking, shooting/fighting, getting good reads on people –– but very low when it comes to self-worth or interpersonal relationships. VULNERABILITIES.   his found family, his back scars, his guilt about having failed to save certain people

TAGGED  BY: stole from @savedpeople​

TAGGING:  @erictwd @smokinmirrors @calmnessispower @aarontwds @hittcr @miiikos @shootfortherightreasons @survivors-of-the-outbreak @c0kehead @tinxstar @moonshinexnights @godblessrickgrimes

[mtngirlforever]

My Little Man, CH. 1

So this is the first chapter of my no-zombie/AU Daryl story. As I mentioned to an anon, my work hours have increased and my writing time has drastically decreased. However, I wanted to explore this story because my muse seems to really be digging it. I will use my old tag list for this first chapter. Please please please let me know if you want to be added/removed from my tag list. I will be creating a masterlist for this story soon. Please leave me your thoughts; my muse thrives on feedback. Without further ado here is chapter one. 

Tagging:  @jodiereedus22  @cole-winchester    @hyphymanatee   @blogsporadicartist    @infinitewcr     @erin-valicat @daddys-little-princess67 @irreplaceable-spacexual @risingphoenix761

You had moved to King County about a week ago. You were able to score a room at a shady apartment complex and got a job as a waitress at the diner in town. It wasn’t glamorous, but you were just glad to be out of college and on your own. You had been expecting your parents reaction, so you weren’t surprised when they disowned you and cut off all your money.

You were dreaming of being a writer one day and had even started an original story in between your studies. You were going to work on it in between shifts at the diner and just hope one day it would be good enough to publish.

On your first shift, you met a lot of the townsfolk who all seemed nice and welcoming. It was just another small country town, and you thought for sure you were going to love it. Your parents had confiscated your car when they disowned you, so you were immensely glad the diner wasn’t far from your apartment. It would make walking back and forth much easier.

After your first shift, you were walking back to your apartment when a police cruiser rolled up beside you. The window rolled down and the officer called out to you. You stopped and noticed the man intently staring you down. It made you a little uncomfortable to be honest.

“Officer,” you said almost questioningly.

“Ma’am. Do you need a ride?”

“Oh. No thanks. I’m just right up here. It’s not far,” you smiled turning to carry on to your apartment. However, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and insisted on giving you a ride. Looking back, you wish you’d never got in the car.

11 months later….

It’d been two months since you’d left King County and escaped to Atlanta. Those two months had been the most peaceful since you left college, but you were always looking over your shoulder now. You’d gotten another shitty apartment in Atlanta and were working as a waitress in an upscale restaurant. You were hoping the tips would be good and would help give you extra money before you really needed it.

You rested a hand on your still flat stomach and sighed before getting ready for work. You knew it wasn’t the baby’s fault, but you were severely depressed, scared, and broken. Deputy Shane Walsh, you sighed cringing at the name. The man had essentially ruined your life by pretending to be nice one night. That first night he had raped you and it only got worse after that. Any time he wanted, he would pick you up from work and rape you and cut you when he felt like. Said he was marking you, you cringed remembering his evil words. You had scars all over that you constantly kept covered so no one would see. His evil words still haunted you in your dreams making sleep hard to come by. When you’d found out he’d gotten you pregnant, you ran.

You knew you couldn’t stay in King County around him another minute because he was ultimately going to kill you and your baby. You let out another sigh thinking about the baby. You were currently finding it hard to love the little being growing inside of you, but you knew you couldn’t get rid of it. You just hoped once you saw him or her that you would instantly fall in love.

6 months later….

You knew you were due any day now. You were as big as a house and uncomfortable as hell. You’d taken off work for the next eight weeks, and although not having the income was going to suck, you knew you needed the time off with the baby. You hadn't kept regular appointments because of the money, but you had at least gone a few times and each time you were able to hear the heartbeat and see the baby. Those appointments became your favorite time and over time you felt yourself falling in love with your baby. You’d kept the sex a surprise and now you were wishing you knew. You had the bare minimum that the baby would need, and you were just floating by.

You decided to get out of the city and go explore some country. Your apartment was filling cramped and with all the city noise, you were really missing the small town country life. You knew your experience in King County had left you wounded and jaded, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to move back to a small town, but at the moment you were really missing it.  You headed off towards Macon and when you found a pull off and a creek you decided to explore. The baby was kicking up a storm and you thought a nice peaceful walk would help you both settle. As you were walking you absentmindedly ran your hand over your stomach.

You’d walked a good ways when you heard someone behind you. You felt fear and panic taking over as you whipped around coming face to face with the end of a crossbow.

“What ar’ ye’ doin ou’ here?” the man asked gruffly.

You could feel your breathing picking up and the baby responding to your panic with sharp kicks. You were terrified and started shaking as the man watched you carefully. He had no idea who you were or what you were doing so far out this way on your own in your condition. It was the middle of summer and you were in jeans and a flannel buttoned all the way up. That left him confused, but he did recognize the signs of your impending panic attack and knew that couldn’t be good for you.

“Shit!” he swore lowering the crossbow and reaching out for you. You let out a strangled whimper as you tried to catch a breath. He instantly knew he was going to have to treat you like a skittish animal. He held his hands out towards you showing you he meant no harm. “I’s ‘k. Jus’ take sum deep breaths. Ain't gonna hur’ ya,” he said gently.

You tried nodding and slowing your breathing as you watched him. Almost as soon as you caught your breath you doubled over in pain holding your stomach. “Wha’s wrong?” he asked laying a hand on your back making you tense even more.

“My…. my water just broke,” you whispered realizing you were currently in labor in the middle of nowhere with some guy you didn’t even know.

“Fuckin’ shit,” he swore loudly causing you to jump.

“I… I’ll… I’ll be ok. I’ll just… I’ll head back to the city,” you stumbled hoping you would make it.

“I can’ let ya go wanderin’ bac through tha woo’s alone. Shit woman wha’ kinda person you think I am?” he said almost angrily.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you whimpered cowering away as you tried to breath through another contraction.

“Fuckin hell,” he mumbled seeing how scared you were. He knew it hadn’t been long since someone had hurt you and he wasn’t helping matters any by losing his head.

“Come on. We’ll git ya bac ta town,” he said gently putting his hand on your arm to guide you back. He wasn’t sure how you managed to get out there, but he knew they weren’t far from his house or truck.

You tried to be strong and silent as this strange man led you through the woods. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, which was a good thing because you honestly had no clue how far you had wandered. The pain rolling through you with each contraction was more intense than the last one and you were struggling to be strong. Just as you reached a clearing in the woods you felt the worst pain yet. You unconsciously reached out and gripped his arm tight as a whimper/moan left your lips.

“I don’t even know your name,” you managed as tears rolled down your cheeks and your knees buckled.

“Daryl,” he grumbled catching you before you fell.

“Emma,” you answered as another strong contraction rolled through not giving you a break. “I… I don’t think I’m going to make it to the city,” you whimpered as the contraction never let up.

“Jus’ hang on,” he said running for the truck parked in the driveway. You didn’t even have time to take in your surroundings before he carefully laid you in the seat and ran back to the driver’s side. He jumped in and headed for the clinic in town not knowing what else to do.

1 hour later….

You were lying on the bed with the bundle swaddled in your arms. You’d barely made it to the clinic before the need to push became too much. You could tell you’d freaked out this Daryl guy that had been so kind to get you here and you thought it odd that a strong man like him would be freaked out.

You glanced down at the sleeping bundle and let out a small sigh. You were just glad he didn’t look anything like his daddy. Luckily you were dark headed as well, so the dark hair could’ve came from either of you and were choosing to believe everything the baby inherited was from you.

There was a knock at your door causing you to jump a little and startle the baby. “Shhh shhh,” you cooed before calling out a quiet come in. You were little surprised to see Daryl open your door and walk in. You were for sure he would’ve dropped you and left. Not that you would’ve blamed him.

“Hey,” you said quietly and he returned the greeting. He watched you struggling to pull the blankets around you and he was suspicious that it was because you were trying to hide something.

“They say you’re a’ight,” he said sitting down by the bed.

You were biting your lip to keep it from trembling as you watched him. “Ummm… yea. Thanks to you,” you said quietly giving him a small smile.

“‘Is nothin’,” he said with a small nod. He was biting the side of his thumb and you found it endearing as you watched him.

“Wanna meet him?” you asked carefully holding the baby out towards him as you tried to keep your arms covered. You hated this stupid gown they made you put on because a lot of your scars would be on display at some point.

“Don’t know nothin’ ‘bout babies,” he said shaking his head.

“Just say hi,” you smiled not sure why you were trying to have a conversation with this guy. Something about him was endearing to you and you just weren't ready for him to leave.

Daryl leaned over and looked at the sleeping baby before you gently tried handing him to him again. Daryl let out a small huff before wrapping his arms around the bundle like he’d seen you do. You let out a small smile at the scene in front of you. “I named him Ryker Lincoln, but I'll probably call him Ryker or Ry” you said quietly.

Daryl just nodded biting his lip watching the baby. “What were ya doin’ out thar anyways Emma?” he asked finally glancing up at you again.

“Just out for a walk… escaping the city,” you said with a small shrug. “Just missed the country and decided to get out.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed.

“What were you doing?” you asked remember facing down the end of his crossbow.

“Huntin. ‘Is my property anyways,” he said giving you a small smirk.

“Oh… sorry… I… I didn’t know,” you said quickly a blush rising as you tugged the blankets around you tighter.

“Relax. It’s fine. You didn’t harm nothin’ or steal ma deer,” he smirked again as the baby started fussing. “Guess that’s my cue,” he said passing Ryker back to you. “Be careful out in them woods,” he smiled before walking out of the clinic.

[jdarylleblog-blog]

Isang FULL TIME Mother at PART TIME Frontrow. Nakakaproud naman na lumalaki na income mo Ups. Naalala ko pa yung una mong orientation hanggang sa sumali ka. Congrats ups ang dami mo ng naipong cheke. 😊💪😉. Mabuti nagtuloy-tuloy ka. 😊 #FrontrowInspiringStory JezelynSuriaga *** Not to brag but to inspired😄 Ganito na pala karami cheque ko😍 2015 nainvite na ako sa frontrow pero katulad ng iba negative din ako about online business pero business minded talaga ako dati pa lahat ng negosyo maisip ko gagawin ko😂 Year 2017 nakita ko si luxxewhite sa timeline ko,super sikat ung luxxe products,actually ilang beses ko narin nakita deadma lang talaga ako dati pero isang araw naengganyo ako sabi ko try ko kaya tong business ,wala naman masama magtry malay mo may mangyari😊So tinuloy tuloy ko na gang sa nagkakacheque naku at iba pa yung kita ko sa products selling💵😁tapos naging Top earner pako😍😍 Sobrang thankful ako kasi nakita ko si FRONTROW dagdag income sa pang araw-araw.Minsan namimili kami tapos biglang na short budget buti nalang may cheque ako sa frontrow so palit agad😂 Proud Full time mom,Partime sa Frontrow 🤜🏻🤛🏻 Thank you FRONTROW😘😇 Thank you ups John Darylle Cayabyab ups Paulo Gaerlan ups Pamia Gaerlan-Marquez ups Roy Tuliao sa pag gaguide lagi😊 Kaya sa mga students,employee,tambay or mga mommies/daddies na naghahanap ng extra income pm me Jezelyn Castrence Suriaga☺️ Tutulungan kita🤜🏻🤛🏻😊 *** #frontrowlife #opportunity #cheque #changinglife #elite #bolinao #pangasinan #unstoppable #limitless #goal #Frontrowmarketing https://www.instagram.com/p/Bqs_GwYhBCw/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1r13qmg3morp