AN: This is from a prompt by therealsonia. She wanted "holiday shopping". It's just a one shot and it's only meant for entertainment value.
I own nothing from the Walking Dead.
I hope that you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Daryl tried to hold back his irritation as he followed Carol through the store, but it was all starting to get the best of him. The place was packed to the brim. It was so packed that he couldn't turn around without bumping into someone else and he couldn't back up even a half a step without stepping on someone's toe.
He was hungry. They hadn't eaten since breakfast and it was dark outside. He was thirsty because the last thing he'd had to drink was a soda that he'd grabbed at the food court when Carol had let him out of her sight for half an hour to make a purchase that he was pretty sure was his Christmas gift. He was tired because they'd been shopping since breakfast.
Actually, they hadn't been shopping since breakfast. They'd been walking around since breakfast. The whole thing might not be half as frustrating if they were actually making purchases. But they weren't buying anything because they couldn't seem to find the one thing that they wanted to buy.
It was almost Christmas and the recent release of some little-girl-chick-flick that featured girls who were somehow experts at various weapons meant that every little girl in the whole damn country wanted their weapon of choice from the movie. They weren't real weapons, of course. They were just replicas that were painted up to look like the ones that each of the characters wielded.
And Sophia was, in many ways, just like every other little girl—even though Daryl thought she was something pretty special in many other ways.
Sophia's favorite character donned a crossbow that was similar to the one that Daryl used when he was hunting. She wanted one of the replicas—which boasted that it could shoot "real" arrows made of foam and plastic—for Christmas. In fact, it seemed to be the only thing that she cared a single damn thing about getting.
And she cared about it so much that it was all that she talked about. It seemed she could already see herself, in her mind, running around in the woods and fending off the dragons—or whatever the hell she was supposed to be fighting from the movie—with her crossbow. She was, in her imagination, as good with the weapon as anyone ever had been. She was better with her crossbow than Daryl was with his and he'd been shooting the real thing since he was somewhere around her age.
So she had to get the damn thing for Christmas because Daryl didn't want her to wake up on Christmas morning to open her presents—of which there were quite a few—just to find that she'd missed out on the one thing that she really wanted.
The problem was that every store in Georgia, it seemed, was sold out of the crossbows.
They had knives, swords, and plastic guns galore, but they were sold out of crossbows. Daryl and Carol had been on a veritable wild goose chase. They'd gone from one store to another, listening to "tips" from the people that worked at each place that another location had one of the toys. They'd driven here and there, calling ahead, chasing the toys, only to arrive at the store and find that they carried the brand—but not the specific toy of Sophia's dreams.
But this store was supposed to have them. And if it didn't? They were out of luck. They would have to give up and give Sophia some kind of "rain check" from Santa. Because the only other way they were going to find one was if they were up to crossing state lines, two days before Christmas, to look for the toy while Andrea and Merle babysat their daughter.
This store had to have them.
As they reached the toy aisle of the store where they'd been told the items would be—if they even existed—Daryl caught Carol by the shoulder.
"Listen—this place don't have 'em? We just gonna give her a rain check or something," Daryl said. "Tell her—Santa run out of stuff to make 'em or something. Get her one in January when everyone ain't trying to snatch everything up."
Carol frowned sincerely. She wanted, desperately, to give Sophia a good Christmas and Daryl understood that. He wanted it too, but he knew that they also had to be realistic about things.
"They have to have one," Carol said. "They have to. Sophia's going to be crushed if she doesn't get one."
Daryl chewed his lip and nodded his head.
"But if they don't?" he said. "Then we'll—get her one of the other things she likes. She likes that sword chick, right?"
"Anna isn't her favorite," Carol said.
"But we could tell her a sword is every damn bit as good," Daryl said. "Hell—tell her it's better. Shit don't need reloading. Get her the sword and give her a rain check for the crossbow."
Carol shook her head at Daryl.
"I don't think it's about the weapon, Daryl," Carol said. "I mean swords or crossbows—or even knives, they're all respectable weapons. I don't think that it's a superiority thing among the weapons."
"Then it shouldn't be no problem," Daryl offered.
Carol sucked in a breath and Daryl wished he could wipe away the concern that hung on her features over something as ridiculous as a toy.
"I think it's because it reminds her of you," Carol said. "I think—that's why she thinks the crossbow is so interesting in the first place."
Daryl felt almost like he'd been punched in the gut.
He'd been living with Carol, now, for almost a year. He'd been dating her for a year and a half. In that amount of time, he'd come to think of Sophia as his own child. He couldn't imagine that, even if they had one of their own, he could love a kid more.
And he tried to be everything for her that he thought a good Daddy should be—he played ball with her, watched television shows that made him want to light his head on fire just because they made her happy, and he even let her do shit like paint his toenails because manicures and pedicures for Carol and Andrea just didn't give her enough to do.
But this was the first sign that Sophia was trying, in her own way, to take an interest in something that interested Daryl. She was actively seeking another way to connect with him.
Daryl nodded his head at Carol.
"What about this, then," Daryl offered. "What if they don't got it but we get her an actual crossbow? A real one? A smaller model? What if we get her somethin' she can handle and I teach her to use it?"
Carol shook her head.
"Maybe that's something to think about for the future," Carol said. "But all her friends are going to be playing with their toys. They're going to want to play with her. She can't play their pretend games with a real weapon, Daryl. I think that most of the parents would frown on that."
"Fine," Daryl said. "Go look for it. If they got it? Great. Excellent. If they don't? We'll figure out what the hell we do next."
Carol nodded and stepped into the packed toy aisle. She walked up and down it, bumping her way around people, and Daryl stood near the end of the aisle and watched her. She stared at the toys with a concerned look on her face that told Daryl that the same thing was true of this store as was true of all the others. They had everything but the crossbow.
But then Carol's face lit up and she lunged forward, snatching a large box off the shelf that she hugged to her body like a square, cardboard teddy bear.
"Daryl! Daryl! They got one! It's the last one!" Carol called.
Daryl waved her in his direction and tried to wade into the aisle a little to help her get through with her prize.
"You sure that's it?" Daryl called.
Carol grinned at him and nodded her head. She stopped partway through the aisle and held the box out from her chest so that she could look at it again and assure herself that she wasn't dreaming because, surely at this point, it all had to seem too good to be true to her.
"This is it," Carol said. "Marissa's live-action crossbow."
As soon as Carol said the words, a man that was standing near her—searching the shelves the same as everyone else—turned around. He moved quickly enough that Daryl saw the surprised expression on Carol's face before it even registered for him what the man had done. In one quick movement, the man snatched the box out of Carol's hands and started down the aisle in the opposite direction with it.
And the second that Daryl realized what happened, he started after the man.
Daryl didn't apologize to the people that he shoved out of his way because he didn't have time. He would leave politeness to Carol. He quickly made his way down the crowded aisle, turned after the man in the larger aisle that it opened into, and gained on him easily enough once there was a smaller concentration of people.
"That's our fuckin' crossbow!" Daryl called out as he caught up to the man. "Give that back! You snatched that shit!"
Getting a hand on the man's shoulder, Daryl stopped him. The man skidded a little on the floor and turned around quickly to face Daryl.
"Possession is nine tenths of the law, buddy," the man said. "And it looks like I got possession of it."
"My kid wants that shit for Christmas," Daryl said, not taking his hand off of the man's shoulder. The man shook him off and bared his teeth at him.
"And you think mine don't?" The man growled.
"You snatched that shit from my fiancé!" Daryl responded back.
As if on cue, Daryl could hear Carol calling out from behind him somewhere. She was moving at a much slower pace than he had while he'd been chasing the man. She was calling to him to tell him that he needed to calm down. She was calling out to him to tell him that it wasn't a big deal.
But it was a huge deal.
"Gimme the damn thing back and maybe I don't break your fuckin' arm and take it," Daryl said. "Because I gotta tell you that I've had just about enough of this damn day and you the only thing standin' between me an' goin' home."
"I don't think so, asshole," the man responded.
He turned quickly, starting off again, and Daryl closed the distance between them again with a few steps. He was aware that a small crowd was gathering to watch. He was also aware that they were keeping some distance.
Daryl put his hands on the man's shoulder and turned him once more.
"Gimme the damn box right now," Daryl said.
"The hell are you gonna do about it?" The man asked.
"I was really hopin' not to have to spend Christmas in jail, asshole," Daryl responded. "But if that's what the hell I gotta do?"
Daryl snatched the box.
Everyone there witnessed it. It was lucky for Daryl, too, that they did. He snatched the box back from the man in the same way that the man had snatched it from Carol. It was lucky for Daryl, too, that others had witnessed the first snatching.
And it was the man who threw the first punch. Everyone watching saw that too.
That was also lucky for Daryl because, otherwise, he might not have been able to claim that all that followed after was nothing more than self-defense.
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"Did you want coffee, Daryl?" Carol asked, stepping outside on the porch.
"I'm good," Daryl said.
"Merle?" Carol asked.
"Just a half a cup," Merle said. "Tell Andrea. She knows how the hell I like it."
"One third coffee and two thirds cream," Daryl said. "Ever'body knows how the hell you like it."
Daryl laughed and dodged his brother's pretend efforts at knocking him one for his comment. Carol stepped back inside saying something about sending Andrea out with the coffee in a minute.
"Be careful bein' such a damn smartass," Merle said. "Someone'll black your other damn eye for that shit."
Daryl laughed and shook his head at Merle.
"Won't be your ass," Daryl said. "You always was too damn slow to catch me."
"Can't believe you got a fuckin' black eye, lil' brother. Who the hell gets in a damn fight outside the fuckin' toy section?" Merle asked. "I sure as shit wouldn't do that shit. You damn near shamed the whole Dixon line."
Andrea came out the door as soon as Merle finished speaking and offered him a cup of coffee before she took her own and moved to a chair across the porch. The bump that evidenced the not-so-distant arrival of a brand new Dixon slowed her down as she took her seat. Carol followed close behind her and, instead of offering Daryl a cup of coffee, she offered him a quick kiss before she took her coffee over to the other side of the porch to sit with Andrea and show off the glittering ring that made the proposal that she'd said "yes" to, a month before, truly official.
Sophia called to Daryl from the yard where she was busy with her crossbow.
"You ready to watch me? Daryl?" Sophia called. "Are you ready?"
Daryl glanced around the porch. Everyone was there and accounted for.
"We ready, Soph," Daryl said. "Show me what'cha got. After breakfast? I'll give you a couple professional tips."
Sophia grinned at him and nodded her head before she gathered up the arrows that came with the toy and took aim at the target that she'd set up for "practice". Daryl watched her shoot the first two before he hummed at Merle and got his brother's attention.
"Don't never say never, Merle," Daryl said. "Your ass just might get a black eye outside a toy section some damn day."
Merle hummed at him.
"Not me, lil' brother," Merle said. "I ain't a dumbass like that."
Daryl laughed to himself, unbothered by his brother's typical heckling.
"Shit," Daryl commented. "This was prob'ly the best damn black eye I ever earned in my whole life. And I'd do it again in a damn heartbeat."