Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead.
A Man of Honor
Chapter 1
"Mama! He did it!" Sophia shrieked, hopping up and down on the couch as Eli blinked in surprise up at the ceiling and grinned when he saw his mama's smiling face.
"Sophia, be careful. Sit down on your bottom," Carol urged before picking up her infant son and holding him close. "You did it, Lijah! You rolled over. You're such a big boy!" At three months, Elijah was a chubby, happy baby despite hating tummy time for everything that it was. His face would redden, and a heartbreaking cry would sound from his tiny lungs every single time. Perhaps, Carol thought, that was what motivated the baby to use the upper body strength he'd slowly been mastering over the last few days to roll onto his back, surprising not only his mother and sister but himself.
"Mama, he rolled over! Does this mean he's big enough to play with me yet?"
"I'm afraid not, sweetheart?" Carol chuckled. A loud thud outside startled Sophia, and she rushed to hoist herself over the back of the couch.
"Is that Daryl? Is he home?!" Sophia peered eagerly out the window as Brody whimpered. The dog's ears had perked up at the mention of Daryl's name, and now he was sniffing at the front door. Carol stood with the baby and hurried to peek out the door, frowning at the sight before her.
"No, sweetie. Another chunk of ice fell off the roof. That's all."
"Oh," Sophia sighed. "Mama, I miss him."
"I do, too, sweetie. But I'm sure he'll be home real soon, ok?" Sophia frowned, and Carol gently rubbed her back. "You know what? It's getting late. Why don't you go upstairs and put on your pajamas?"
"Aw, do I have to?"
"Uh-huh. I want you to brush your teeth for two minutes, and then I want you to work on your reading. I already picked out a book for you."
"But, Mama," Sophia whined.
"No buts."
"Why do I gotta learn to read anyway? I don't have to go to school anymore."
"No, you don't, but that doesn't mean that you don't need to learn. That's part of growing up. Learning is very important. You'll thank me when you're older." Sophia pouted, and Carol smoothed back the girl's hair.
"Go on. I'm going to give your brother a bath, and then I'll be in so you can read me your bedtime story."
"Promise you'll help me with the hard words?"
"I promise," Carol chuckled, bending down to kiss her daughter's forehead. "Go on." Sophia sighed and hurried up the stairs, while Carol took one last peek outside before she turned down the lanterns and carried the baby upstairs to give him a bath.
...
Elijah had started sleeping through the night about a month ago, but Carol often woke in the night anyway to check on him and on Sophia. But many nights, she just lay awake wondering if Daryl was ok, if he was warm, if he was safe. He'd been gone for two weeks, and it felt like much longer.
Things around the farm were quiet. She kept the children inside, made sure Sophia didn't get too loud, though sometimes Elijah would cry so loud Carol was certain she'd have a dozen walkers banging at her door. But the fences were holding, and she only had to go out every few days to put down the walkers that seemed to gather there, as if they somehow knew. It was impossible, she knew, but it was still odd how they would just seem to gather at the gate.
She wasn't sure she could ever get used to them or their dead eyes, those raspy moans that escaped their throats like gravel tumbling along the street. It was unsettling to say the least.
So now, as she turned the oil lamp low next to the bed and squeezed some lotion into the palm of her hand, she tried to think about everything but what could happen or what could have happened already without her knowing. She hated to even attempt to think of the fact that he might never come back. But he'd promised. He'd kissed her, and he'd promised to come home, and she only hoped he'd found what he was looking for.
Well, so much for that.
She flopped back against the mattress, letting out a soft groan as her achy muscles welcomed the period of rest, and she closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the wind beating against the side of the house. It had been one hell of a winter, and each time Daryl went out looking for Merle, he'd come back empty handed. He'd taken a different route, this time heading into the heart of Atlanta, and he was due back any day. It was the waiting that was the worst. At least when she did sleep, she could forget about her worries for a little while and let the time pass freely.
She turned onto her side, suddenly very wide awake. Despite trying to tire herself out with a good book, she'd been unable to relax enough to let herself slip off to sleep. She knew why. She knew that when Daryl got home, things were going to change. And it wasn't a bad thing. It was good. Very good. But what was between them was still very new, and they'd given each other time. They'd shared a bed, they'd kissed, they'd touched, they'd been patient with one another, getting to know the little intimacies without getting too intimate.
She knew she could trust him, but it was a scary thing. She hadn't been with anyone since Ed, and that had always been a humiliating experience that either left her feeling dirty or empty. But she had fallen out of love with a long time ago, and sex had become almost mechanical to her. Another duty to perform. Another piece of her marriage she just had to fake her way through. Going through the motions.
She didn't want it to feel like that with Daryl. She wanted to feel comfortable and beautiful and desired. She wanted him to feel good, too, of course, and she certainly didn't want to have any doubts running through her head when it happened.
She'd been expecting it, honestly, and about a month after Merle had taken off, it had almost happened. They'd come so close, and he'd had her shirt off and his hand unclasping her bra, and she'd frozen for half a second, long enough that he knew he needed to stop, that she wasn't ready, and she'd felt horrified, knowing that freezing up with Ed had never been an option.
But he'd kissed her and promised her it would happen when it was right for both of them. And on this night, as she lay alone in bed thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong and how much she missed him, she was wishing he was home, wishing he was there to take her mind off of the harsh world outside.
A loud crack outside startled her from her endless thoughts, and she scrambled out of bed and hurried to the window. She peeked through the curtains to see where the large branch that had almost been eye-level with the window was now gone and had fallen to the ground, lying on top of the frozen snow.
The temperature was dropping, and she shivered at the thought of the generator running out of fuel tonight. She tried not to use much energy during the day, saving it all for heating the house at night. Still, she knew that generator would be empty within a day or so.
She pulled back and left the room to check on Sophia. Brody was curled up on the foot of her bed, and he barely even lifted his head to gaze at Carol when she draped an extra blanket over the little girl.
"You keep her safe, Brody," Carol whispered, scratching the dog behind the ears. He whined and nuzzled her hand with his cold, wet nose.
When she slipped back out into the hall, she felt a chill as a cool draft tickled the back of her neck. She gasped softly the second she heard the floorboards creak. It was then that she noticed the shadow ghosting across the floor of her bedroom, followed by the tinkling sound of Elijah's mobile.
Her breath caught into her throat, and she was rushing across the hall, slipping into the room just in time to see Daryl Dixon straighten from over the crib and turn to see her.
"Daryl!" she exclaimed in a hushed whisper, as Daryl took a step away from the crib. She rushed to him then, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he moaned softly when her mouth was on his, warming his cold, weary body with her own heat.
"Hey," he breathed, nuzzling his face against her neck, breathing in her scent as she ran her fingers over his neck and through his hair, happy to have him back home.
"Any luck?" she asked, as he pulled back, moving his hands down to her waist. She shivered under the look he gave her, and her breathing quickened as he rubbed gentle circles over the flesh of her hips just above the band of her pajama pants. "Daryl?"
"Missed you," he said quietly, tilting her chin up so he could kiss her again.
"I missed you, too." She moaned softly the moment his hands gripped the back of her night shirt, and he was lifting it up, sliding his hand up and down her bare back, making her knees shake a little. "Daryl…"
"Hate bein' gone so long," he murmured. "Couldn't stop thinkin' about you."
"Me too," she admitted. "But I understand. He's your brother."
"Wanted to get back home to you," he broke in between kisses. She sighed then, melting into his touch, giving herself over to the way his skin warmed under her touch, the way his kisses took her breath away. He was walking her backward then, toward the bed, and she gasped softly, narrowly avoiding tripping over one of her boots. Daryl held tight to her, keeping her upright as they moved backward. Her hands tugged at his coat, and he shrugged it off as he kicked his heavy boots off and lifted her up into his arms.
She giggled then, wondering what it might be like to watch this from afar, to see Daryl Dixon sweep a woman off of her feet. But she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him deeper, pouting just a little when he put her down on the bed, but her smile re-emerged when he crawled over her, kissing her slowly, hungrily, moving his hand up under her nightshirt, ghosting over her belly as the muscles jumped under his fingertips.
"You ok?" he asked, and she nodded, nuzzling against his neck as his hand moved higher. She could feel her trembling under him, and he stopped. "We can stop."
"I don't want to," she whispered. "I'm…I'm ok." She smiled then, running her hand up his chest and his neck and up to cup his cheek. "I love you." It was the first time she'd really said it, and maybe it was the old cliché that absence made the heart grow fonder, but she'd known it for a long time, felt it for even longer.
And just as Daryl opened his mouth to say something in return, the baby began to cry, and they both looked at one another and began to laugh. Carol pulled him down onto her, and he chuckled against her chest, placing a kiss against her throat.
"I love you too," he murmured, giving her a soft kiss before he rolled off the bed.
"I'll get him," Carol offered. "Go on. Go get cleaned up."
"You sayin' I stink?"
"No," she laughed. "But I might need a few minutes to calm him down." She kissed him again. "Don't worry. I'll be waiting when you're done."
"You better be," he chuckled, getting a laugh out of her before she craned up to kiss him again. Then the baby's cries grew louder, and she collapsed against the mattress. "You'd better go now, or we'll be up all night." She kissed his nose, and he rolled off of her. He went to the crib and brought the baby to her, placing him in her arms.
"He's gettin' big."
"He rolled over for the first time today?"
"No kiddin'?"
"He'll be running around chasing after Brody before we know it." She sighed and patted the baby's back. She bit her lip and looked up at Daryl who was standing at the foot of the bed. "I'm glad you're home."
"Me too," he replied. "Been too long." With that, he turned and headed off to the bathroom, while Carol tried to calm her crying son.
...
Carol jolted at the feeling of his fingers brushing over her arm. Her eyes flew open, and she gasped at the sight of him smirking at her as he lifted the baby off of her chest.
"I fell asleep," she groaned.
"You fell asleep," he confirmed, holding Elijah close as he slowly stepped over to the crib and put him down. He pulled a blanket over the little one and moved across the room wearing nothing but a towel, and Carol suddenly wasn't feeling very tired anymore.
"How long was I out?"
"Probably not long. Water was cold."
"I'm sorry," she pouted, as he grabbed his pack and got into bed.
"What's this?" she asked, as he rifled through it. He paused then, and she could see the flush in his cheeks.
"Uh…I wasn't expectin'. Just hopin'." He pulled out a box and tossed his pack onto the floor.
"Oh," Carol murmured, staring down at the box of condoms in his hand. He put it down on the nightstand and turned to her. That knocked a little laugh out of her. "I see." What the hell else was there to say? "That's very…responsible of you." Daryl flashed her a questioning look. "I'm teasing. Thank you for bringing them." She leaned in then, placing her hand against his shoulder, pressing a kiss against his jaw as her hand moved down to his chest and then lower, resting on his abdomen just above where the towel was knotted.
"You sure you're ready?" The flush in her cheeks spread down her neck, and he followed the trail of skin that dipped into her button down sleep shirt, before his gaze flickered back to hers.
"Kiss me," she whispered, tugging on his arm, pulling him onto her, lying back against the mattress as his hand moved up her shirt again, stroking the soft skin of her belly. She closed her eyes when his fingers played with the string on her pants, and he paused.
"Tell me to stop, and I'll stop."
"I don't want to," she breathed. "I'm just nervous." Her fingers trembled as she ran them over the lines of scars on his back. "It's been a while."
"Been a real long while for me," Daryl admitted. "Don't wanna hurt you."
"You couldn't. I know you. I trust you, Daryl." He leaned in then, his strong arms surrounding her as he took his time kissing her, holding her, focusing on her and not the own impossible ache he felt, the yearning and desire for her that he hadn't been able to keep out of his head since the first time they'd kissed.
It was never easy, a first time, and it was never perfect, but it was about as close to perfect as Daryl could think, the way they moved together so easily, fit together so seamlessly, the way one body seemed to answer to the other, the way she whispered in his ear, urging him when she needed more, begging him for release.
Her hands slicked in sweat against his back, memorizing the lines of his scars as if willing the bad memories out in place of good. His lips were soft against her neck and her shoulders, kissing her in ways she'd never been kissed before, in ways so tender and loving. She hadn't felt love like this before.
Exposing herself to someone, opening herself up, making herself vulnerable. These were things she'd been frightened to death of, but knowing he felt the same way and had his own insecurities made it feel real, made it feel powerful. And the way his body fit with hers, the way she closed her eyes and relished the feel of him sinking into her, of being a part of her, of connecting in the most primal of ways was overpowering. It took her under, took her breath from her lungs, took the beat of her heart and synced it in time with his. They were one.
