Title: The Boy's I mean,

Fandom: The Walking Dead
Ship: Caryl
Characters: Daryl Dixon, Carol, Merle Dixon, Lil' Asskicker.
Warnings: Daddy!Daryl, cuteness, Cussing. Mentions of sexuality/masterbation.

Summary:

Set after Home, Carol sees a side of Daryl she would not have guessed for a thousand years.

By JackAndHoney

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"Knock knock." Carol announced quietly, sweeping into the cell, not looking up (well, only through her lashes) as she passed Daryl as he sat on the bunk. She held a clean pair of jeans, blackbuttonup and his vest.
She gave him the shirt and pants, still vest. She turned around so he could change. She'd thought it odd that he'd just layed there shirtless after Hershel had checked him over.
Daryl was more bashful than even Beth. (Though, she knew it was for good reason) She knew he had scars. Scars that had come from his father's hands. She brushed it off as her fingers danced lightly over the vest in her hands.

"I'm covered." Daryl groused, flopping back down the bottom bunk. She turned around, plopping herself down on the chair next to the bed. A tiny smile came to her lips as she started to clean the whites of the wings with a babywipe. Just having him back had made her heart soar. She'd understood him. But that didn't mean that his absence hadn't hurt any less

They were silent for a while, he with his arms behind his head she working quietly. They'd not said much about what had happened earlier. Didn't say anything about the fact that Judith was still crying and from being left alone for so long. Crying because the noise, the fear that coursed, tangible in the air… "God damnit. The hell they doin' to her?" Daryl cussed, standing up quickly and striding out of the room. She wondered why he'd gotten up so quickly, surely Beth had Judith, or Hershel at least.

"Now. You gonna quit your whining?" Came his voice as he walked back into the room, Judith in his arms as he shook a bottle of formula against his thigh.

Needless to say, Carol was shocked. She imagined Daryl shouting at Beth, telling her to keep the baby quiet, but to go get her himself? Unthinkable!

"Quit your crying, 'Cause there ain't no need." The baby whined, letting out a little squeak of irritation, her fists batting at her face. "I know you were left alone. But ya can't hold that against her, ehh sweetheart?" He caught her palms before he placed the nipple to her mouth, holding it up so she got the minimal amount of air in her mouth. The child still whimpered around the nipple, her eyes big and glassy as she peered up at the scruffy man. Clearly she knew him, knew his voice, knew she was safe.

"There you go, Sweetheart. That taste good? Just wait till your older and you don't have to drink this crap. Make you squirrel dumplings, bitches love mah squirrel dumplin's." He drawled, almost as if he were making fun of himself.

Carol let out a little chuckle, she never would have guessed Daryl to be able and hold a baby. Sure, he could get her formula, fight for her. But hold her? Pft. It just didn't think it possible.

"what's so funny?" He asked sourly, looking down up at Carol, his eyes squinted. He had forgotten she was there. The tips of his ears turned pink.

"Oh- oh nothing." She caught herself. "I was just thi-thinking of a pillow my mother used to have." She spluttered out the (half)lie. (Though her mother did have bird pillow)

"A bird pillow?" He asked over the baby's 'unh unh unh unh' noises as she drank down the bottle.

"Yes. It had birds on it." She didn't look up from the vest she was still cleaning. 'Obviously….' she thought, her cheeks turning pink. "And a little poem… oh how did it go…" she looked up, face scrunching up, "Beating wings, feathered wings. Oh what glory do you bring Upon my sill….that's all I can remember." She shrugged, looking up as Daryl tipped the baby upsidedown so he might burp her.

"Pretty." He said stiffly. "What made you think of it?" He asked at length.

"Wings." She held up his vest as he tipped her back up. Judith started to whine again, her face crumpling like paper as the bottle was pulled away.

"Really?" He asked her. "I've fed ya. Burped ya. Will need to change ya soon enough…" he rolled his eyes before unswaddling her, unbuttoning his shirt and laying her against his skin before laying himself back down on the bunk, head propped up, a hand soothing circles against her tiny spine.

"Didja know studies have shown that babies who are born too early grow better if they lay against skin, instead of in blankets? Somethin' about them learning how ta regulate their body temperature." He said lightly. "kangaroo care. They called it." He brushed his hand across the now silent baby's forehead, brushing downy hair. "I think it just reminds ya of home, don't it, Asskicker?"

"Home?" she asked, astounded (as she often was by him when he spoke his intelligence)

"Well yeah." He nodded, his blue eyes soft as he turned to look at her, "when she was in her momma, she woulda heard everything. Her breathing, her stomach rumbling, heart beat, bloodflow, digestion. The whole specheel." He nodded. "Not to mention being in the same temperature. Think of it as crickets and cicadas for us." He snickered. "Background night noise."

"Never thought of it that way…" she said slowly. "Makes sense I guess. How'd you get so good with babies?" She asked, ducking her head, hoping he might answer.

"Dunknow…." he said, closing his eyes.

"Bold face lie, brotha." Merle said in his low whistle of a voice. "Always been the soft one, our Daryl. Used to go missing Sunday morning. Was with Mrs. Maple in the nursery. Just a'rockin' little Bessie Anne."

"Screw you." Daryl grumbled, not looking up. "That church was as boring as hell. Feblekorn was like watching grass grow. Heaven help ya if you fell asleep, got candle wax dripped in my ear for that once!" He nearly shouted, having forgotten Carol sitting next to him again.

Merle laughed humorlessly. "Jo always said you and Bess were a match made in hell." He grumbled, walking away, metal arm clanking on the wall of metal bars.

Carol furrowed her brows. "Bess Anne?" She asked, very confused .

"Jo Ellen O'Connor's little sister. Couldn'ta been more than two the at the time." He told her, as if he were reminding her of a fact she'd forgotten. "Itty bitty thing. Look at her crosseyed she'd whimper." He shook his head. "Got her own babies now, last I heard." He trailed off. They were quiet again, he in his world, she in hers (thinking about his) The baby slept soundly against his chest, the two sets lungs moving at the same time. fragile in different ways.

Carol had finished cleaning one set of wings, the left side. They weren't white, not anymore. But she'd gotten most of the mud and walker blood off of it.

"You like Cummings?" Daryl asked, out of the blue

"Well yeah." She gave him a cheeky smile. "You offering? But uhh.. you gotta wash your fingernails first." She cackled, looking at his hands (still soothing the sleeping Asskicker)

His face had turned pink, his cheeks puffing out slightly.

"The poet." He dead panned.

"I don't know if I've ever heard him." In her sleep, Judith let out a shuddering sigh, as if her body had forgotten she'd no reason to cry.

"Only poet I'll read… well, sep for Poe, but Poe's Poe…" he was quiet again.

"I didn't know you liked poetry." Carol murmerd, 'oh Lord please, keep talking. Please. Don't put your walls up.' She prayed silently, eyes intent on he vest and the new wipe in her hand.

"You never asked." He stated.

"I suppose not… well, which one's your favorite?" Another feather clean.

"The boys I mean. I always liked that one." He grinned slightly.

"Never heard it." She told him, shrugging.

"Of course not. You like Wolf and Dickonson too much." He sat up a little, moving Judith so she was against the crook of his elbow. "Asskicker likes that one, don't you sweetheart? Hmm all them boys…" he snickered, watching her squirm in her sleep. She opened an eye, hands batting again.
"Hmm?" He asked, letting her fist wrap around his forefinger. It seemed no one slept soundly anymore.

Carol stood up as Daryl's eyes started to drift shut.
"You'll have to tell it to me sometime." She told him.

"Maybe. Then again, don't need any fainting women." he chuckled as he watched her stand up and go to leave the room.
"I'm really glad you're back, Daryl." She told him.

He simply shrugged with an awkward sort of look before gazing back down at the baby in his arms.

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A/N: I've reworked this a wee bit, I wasn't happy with the way it came out.
I'm content with it now... mostly. There might be a second chapter to this. there might not. we shall have to see! as always, thanks for reading and leave a review! -Hannah.