A/N: Hello again! Here comes that sequel I promised. This is not going to follow any plot or plan. These will mostly be one shots, some may be connected. They will start with the same timeline order, but some may jump forward into the way future or may fall back. These will be written from different perspectives – first one will be Hershel. The chapter lengths will vary depending on topic. Enjoy!
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Happily Ever After
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Chapter 1 – Hershel
Hershel wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror with his hand, pushing the droplets of water around and generally just making a mess. At least that's what his Annette used to tell him. Hershel reached over and grabbed a hand towel, re-wiping the mirror as if his wife was there to cluck her tongue at him just as if she'd been alive to see the streaks made by his hand. His second wife, Annette, had been gone almost seven long years. They had been married for almost nineteen years when he'd lost her, but Hershel found he still missed her some days as if he'd lost her last week.
He lathered his face, taking his razor to it. Since it was Sunday, and no matter how low his mood was, Hershel needed to be clean shaven for service at church. He wasn't about to slack on that, no way no how. There was a sulky glower on his face, perhaps that was the reason why the razor cut him differently, nicking his jawline. Hershel stopped shaving as blood welled up from the small cut. Annoyed with himself Hershel glared as he grabbed at his hand towel, needing to press it to the wound to stop the red. Blood.
It wasn't the first time there had been blood in this bathroom. It probably wouldn't be the last, and it most definitely wouldn't be the worst. The worst was when he'd seen the blood smeared on this youngest daughter's wrist, her mouth open in a weeping pain. Her agony had been more from grief than the sliced flesh. Beth had locked herself in this bathroom, cutting her wrist in a desperate attempt.
Hershel pressed the white towel to his cut, removing the stain of blood from his vision, but it didn't stop the memory it caused to flash forward. Beth had thought harming herself was the way out of endless pain and crushing grief. She had wanted to stop everything, to stop thinking, stop breathing, to just stop living. Beth had cried, wailing so hard when Maggie and he had finally been able to bust the door open. Beth had professed her regret immediately. She was so sorry, she hadn't wanted to die; it had taken a moment of weakness to realize that. Hershel had just buried her mother the day before, her brother the week before that. He had buried two wives in his life, Hershel wasn't about to bury as second child.
Hershel drew in a shaky breath. It had been so long ago, but not long enough apparently. He didn't know if it would ever be long enough to wipe the image of Beth crying, bleeding, and begging to be forgiven. That would probably never happen.
His bleeding stopped, and Hershel finished shaving. Once done with his morning ritual in the bathroom, he dressed slowly. Hershel wasn't as young as he once was; he had to take it easy on his old joints. It wasn't like he was in any hurry. The necessary morning chores were already done with the livestock, and no one was waiting on him for breakfast downstairs. He was alone in the house.
Hershel literally couldn't remember a time when he'd slept alone in this house before this year. Oh, he knew it would come someday. His girls had to leave him sooner or later; that was the nature of how the world worked. He knew he should have been prepared for it, but it seemed like he didn't handle the recent one too well. Hershel Greene had done something he rarely did anymore, he'd let his anger lash out. He had fought with Beth.
It wasn't that Hershel was mad at his youngest daughter for spending a few nights away from the home with Dixon. He might not approve, as he hadn't when Maggie had started spending half her time at that Glenn's place back before they'd been engaged. It had been hard, but Hershel had accepted his daughter was a grown woman and could make her own choices.
At least that's what Hershel told himself while it stewed in him, his little girl spending the night over at some man's house with his baby granddaughter. Since the situation had come up abruptly his displeasure to the idea didn't have much time to fester, but it didn't stop him from boiling over when he'd finally confronted Beth. He just hadn't been able to stay silent. He knew he was just being old fashioned, that the world had moved on, and this arrangement between his daughter and Dixon was more common than not, but he still couldn't help but disapprove. Hershel was old when he'd had Beth, over forty when she had been born. He was too set in his ways not to tell her it was wrong, a bad example for her young daughter.
Only now Hershel was regretting how he handled Friday night. It wasn't necessarily what he said, he still stood by his set of morals, but he should have expressed himself differently. He should have calmly let Beth know he knew it was her choice but also let her know it didn't sit right with how she was raised, that he had some concerns. The whole situation happened so fast. He shouldn't have bellowed, he shouldn't have lectured.
Beth was a good person and a good daughter, she'd always been. That's why it had been so surprising when she'd hurt herself, it had been so unexpected. Her grief had piled on so heavily, she hadn't wanted to burden anyone else with it. It had also been shocking two years later when Beth had announced she was pregnant from a one night stand. Until those occurrences, Maggie and Shawn had been the only reasons behind his white hair, never his little Beth. She had gotten good grades, sang in the church choir, and volunteered at the local library to read to children. She hadn't given him an ounce of trouble since shocking him with the existence of Hope. She worked hard, was a great mother to her daughter, and was trying to elevate herself by going to college.
Hershel wasn't thrilled when Beth had spent that first night at Dixon's place over off Elwood Street – Oh, yes, Hershel knew where Daryl lived. He'd asked around and found out. There was no way he wasn't going to know where his grandbaby was staying when Hope had started spending more time with her father. And when it had just been Beth, a grown adult woman, Hershel had kept his mouth shut.
But then it had been Beth and Hope together, and that just didn't seem right for a reason Hershel wasn't hundred percent sure he could explain suitably. It wasn't like the man wasn't Hope's own daddy. It wasn't like Daryl was a bad man; he'd made huge strides to become a better man this year for both Beth and Hope and atone for the past. While Daryl wasn't exactly horrible, he hadn't always been great either. Hershel had done his damn best as a father and man to stay out of daughter's affairs back when Daryl had first shown up on his porch that fateful evening. Hershel had refrained from socking the younger man in the jaw like he had deserved. Hershel knew it took two to tango and Beth wasn't innocent either so unless he'd been ready to punish both, Hershel couldn't in good conscious punish just one. And how could he think about punishment for an act where his Hope had been the outcome.
Maybe his problem was that the man was changing so fast and dramatically, changing his daughter's world. It worried Hershel that Daryl could reverse his course, run back and away and leave both his girls with broken hearts. He knew people could change and quickly. He sure as hell had when presented with his first child, Maggie. Hershel had gone cold turkey on the drinking, found his Lord, and became a changed man almost overnight. He wasn't sure why he couldn't trust another man to do the same thing for the sake of his child.
Hershel walked downstairs and had a small breakfast of coffee and oatmeal, mulling over his own mistake while eating. If Beth and Hope had been home, Hershel would have made some toast with honey also, but he wouldn't have eaten it alone. He would have had a delighted little girl to share with, but instead he sat alone at his table in a sullen mood.
After his lonely breakfast, Hershel travelled to church. It was the Lord's Day and going to church would hopefully help center him. Perhaps by listening to Father Gabriel's sermon he might find the strength to admit he might have been wrong, or maybe at least apologize for how harshly he'd brought up his concerns. Hershel wasn't sure if he was wrong in condemning his daughter's life choice, but he sure could have expressed himself better.
Hershel chatted with a few other parishioners before service started. Mary Winters in particular tried to have his ear today. Mary was a widower like him, losing her husband a few years back to complications with diabetes. She invited him over for dinner… again. Mary did so every few months lately. Hershel had been running out of excuses, not wanting to hurt the nice lady's feelings but not feeling the need to deepen their casual acquaintance. Mary was younger than him; she still had a spring in her step and wasn't too bad on the eyes, but Hershel just wasn't interested. He had been married, loved and buried two wives. He was done. He didn't know if his heart could take losing another, the first two had almost destroyed him.
Once he'd delicately escaped the invite from Mrs. Winters, Hershel took his place in his family's usual pew. It wasn't long afterwards that Maggie and Glenn breezed in and took the spot next to him. It was the seating that Beth and Hope usually sat in. From the nervous smile on Glenn and the bland chatter from Maggie, it was apparent to Hershel that both knew of the disagreement between him and Beth from Friday night. Hershel held up his end of the conversation with them while keeping an eye on the door, waiting for Beth to arrive. Minutes ticked away without hint of his daughter and his granddaughter, Hershel started to shift uncomfortably in the pew. Beth was never this late to service.
Just as service was about to begin, Hershel saw movement out of the corner of his eyes. They snuck in along the back while everyone rose as Father Gabriel took his place at the podium. Hershel sighed with relief as he saw Beth and Hope filling in the end of their pew. And then, much to Hershel's surprise, Daryl appeared, taking the last seat at the end.
Hershel looked over at his youngest daughter, trying to get her attention and have her acknowledge him, but Beth wouldn't glance in his direction. She got her family situation, showing Daryl the hymnal, and started to sing with rest of the congregation. Her attention purposely focused forward or on the fidgety Hope next to her, refusing to acknowledge his questioning look. Daryl stood quietly next to Beth, looking uncomfortable in his button up shirt and probably the best pair of jeans he owned. Hershel was more than a little impressed his daughter got the older man to follow her lead and come to church with her. Beth had influence over that man, Daryl had alluded to it before, and now Hershel could see that it was true.
The service was good, but Hershel found it hard to concentrate on Father Gabriel's sermon. He did not like the tension that was in his family, even worse knowing he had caused it. Once service was over, the family gathered in the foyer. Small talk was made about the plans for the day. Beth continued to avoid his earnest eyes while Daryl hovered protectively next to her. Hershel wanted to talk with his youngest daughter, but he still wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say as he was still stuck on the problem. He couldn't approve of his girls going there, but it wasn't necessarily his place to be so judgmental and horrible about it either.
His daughters let him know they would be to the farm for dinner per the usual. They had never made a point of calling it out before so purposely, that alone let Hershel know how upset he'd made his youngest. Both had errands and family affairs to attend to before they would arrive later.
Sunday dinners were a tradition within the Greene household. Hershel was glad he had his girls close enough to enjoy them with him always. There were times when they were in college or away out of town when they weren't able to make it, but they always made an effort when they could. Annette and he had raised good children. He bid his family farewell, each going in their own direction before coming to the farm later.
While it hadn't been called out, it did not surprise Hershel when Daryl showed up with Hope and Beth. Recently, Daryl had started to enjoy Sunday dinners with the rest of the extended Greene clan. Daryl was family, the father of his granddaughter, so Hershel was glad he came. However today he wasn't grateful. Hershel still wanted to speak with Beth alone, to talk out their conflict, but that wasn't going to happen with Daryl standing around Beth constantly.
Hershel stood by, watching as his family filtered into the house. His girls headed straight to the kitchen. There was no doubt that Maggie and Hope were only helping Beth, the actual cook. Maggie, with all her skills on the operating table or with clients, couldn't cook to save her soul. It was a good thing Glenn didn't love her for her culinary skills.
They looked so busy, hands moving, pots out and aprons on. Maggie and Beth chatted, but nothing important was being said as Glenn tried to interest Daryl in the football game Hershel had on the television. Hershel found that all eyes seemed to be avoiding him. He frowned heavily. He didn't like the tension in the air, not one bit. Only little Hope had greeted him with her normal gusto. Nope, this wouldn't stand.
Hershel walked into the kitchen, a slight limp from a stiff knee hampered him. "Beth," he said in his baritone voice. "I need to speak with you."
Beth minced the herbs on the cutting board with expert precision. "Daddy, I'm a little busy right now."
His frown deepened as his chest pushing forward as he stood taller. "Beth," he stated more sternly.
"Uh, Daddy, we are a bit busy," injected Maggie as she and Hope scrubbed the potatoes. "Can't it wait 'til later," she offered with a nervous energy, obviously trying to play the peacemaker – Beth's normal role.
Hershel chose to ignore his eldest daughter, his attention focused entirely on Beth as he took a few more steps in and closer to her at the center island. Daryl appeared as a shadow in the doorway, still chatting with Glenn, but Hershel knew his eye was on him and Beth. Hershel knew he should be proud his daughter had a suitor that cared so much and worried about her, but instead it annoyed him. He felt undermined.
Beth drew in a deep breath and set her knife down, her blue eyes meeting her father's for the first time that day. "Dad, I know we need to talk. I'm plannin' on it. But not now… after dinner perhaps." Her eyes momentarily flicked to Daryl behind him before finding Hershel's again. "Daryl and I need to speak with you… together."
It was hard sometimes as a parent to realize your children were adults. It had been easy enough with Maggie after she'd graduated with her doctorate, grew into a fine veterinarian, and worked alongside him. Hershel saw her manage disasters and handle emotional clients. He watched her hold herself with confidence and poise. Maggie had married a fine man recently, moving into her own home. It was easy to see her as an adult.
Shawn had been a senior in college when they had lost him, but still he'd been on his way to becoming a fine young man. He had been home that summer, working on an internship with the forestry department. His passion for conservation had developed into a career path for him, making his parents proud. Hershel had been looking forward to the path his son had been on before losing him.
It was with Beth that Hershel still struggled with seeing his baby girl completely grown up. She was a mother, a grown woman, and he knew that. She had her own mind and earned her rights to live life as she pleased. Still, when Hershel looked at her, he didn't always see the capable adult she'd grown into despite his best efforts. Sometimes he had trouble seeing beyond the smaller and softer girl she had been, the one that had needed protection and direction.
Her defiance to his request and his own faulty inability to see her as an adult annoyed him greatly, flaring his temper more than he was used to. Hershel let out a grunt of agreement laced with irritation. He wasn't happy about being made to wait. As the patriarch of the family, he wasn't exactly used to that, to being pushed to the side and made to wait his turn.
Before he let loose words he didn't exactly mean, Hershel turned and stalked out of the kitchen. He brushed by Daryl as he exited the house. He probably should have grabbed his jacket since there was a chill in the air, but Hershel wasn't about to stop at the moment. He made his way to the barn; he had long changed from his good church clothes so that didn't worry him. There were always more chores to be done on the farm, and Hershel wasn't about to let his temper get the best of him again. He planned to work some of it off before dinner.
It wasn't long before Daryl entered the barn behind him. Hershel didn't stop from his manual labor, moving some of the newly delivered feed to its proper storage. Daryl said nothing, just came up alongside him and helped. They worked well together; a fact Hershel already knew from the summer
when Daryl had assisted while he'd been recovering. Damn heart of his couldn't take too much more so Hershel let up, allowing Daryl to do most of the heavy lifting. There was silence between the two men, not angry or uncomfortable, but it was there. His daughter's man wasn't a shy or skittish, but Daryl was a man of very few words.
After a good amount of work, Hershel finally felt winded enough to stop working. He wiped the fine sheen of sweat from his brow with a handkerchief from his back pocket. He wasn't as young as he used to be, a fact his body liked to remind him more and more of each day.
"Thank you, Daryl. I think we're done here," Hershel said with a deep, heavy breath. He was calmer and his anger was gone. He knew he could get through dinner like an adult now.
Daryl straightened up, dusting his hands off. His dark blue eyes flicked up to Hershel and then back down. "No problem," he uttered in the low gravelly voice of his, but he made no move toward the barn door like Hershel was. "Need to talk to you," Daryl stated evenly.
Hershel paused and turned back to Daryl, his old body stiffening. "That is what my daughter has informed me."
Daryl raised his eyes once again and locked them with Hershel as the two men stood before one another. That was the one thing about the younger man before him that Hershel understood. Daryl was quiet enough that some often could mistake that for shy or passive or low-spirited, but when you saw his eyes and he told you what he wanted you to know, a person understood Daryl was none of those things. Daryl Dixon was just a quiet man, and Hershel could appreciate that, but that didn't mean he wasn't ardent. Daryl was a hard worker, strong, and toiled to be a better man and father for Beth and Hope – at least recently.
Hershel took a step back towards Daryl, the younger man still holding his gaze. Daryl's look wasn't hard or intimidating, just serious and earnest. It let Hershel know the importance of what he was about to say.
"I suppose Beth told you I wasn't happy about their accommodations," Hershel stated the obvious. He might as well start with that.
Daryl nodded curtly. "Yes. And I can't say I don't disagree with you."
Hershel was visibly surprised by Daryl's response but said nothing. He just gave Daryl a blatantly shocked look. He didn't know if he could comprehend what he'd just heard. Hershel had not been expecting his daughter's suitor to agree with him on his daughter spending the night with him.
Daryl shifted, seeming uncomfortable under Hershel's long stare. "I wouldn't… I wouldn't want my lil girl goin' off and shackin' up with some man either," he explained, his eyes finally dropping to the floor.
Hershel snorted. "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't either, now would you?"
Daryl gave him a stiff nod. "I told Beth as much after we talked more about it this weekend."
Now Hershel was really surprised, his brows raised comically high on his face. This was not how he had anticipated his after dinner conversation going. Maybe that was why Daryl was out here talking to him now… without Beth.
Daryl seemed to grimace, rubbing at the slight stubble on his chin. He barely had a five o'clock shadow since he'd been clean shaven for church. For the first time Hershel noticed the behavior of this quiet man as something different. Daryl shifted his weight again from one foot to another. This man was nervous. Hershel had been too caught up in his mood to notice it in the younger man before.
"You might as well say it, son," Hershel urged him, seeing the growing anxiousness in Daryl.
Daryl drew in a deep breath for courage. "I asked Beth to marry me."
For some reason, that statement didn't add anymore shock to Hershel. Perhaps he was beyond being surprised by Daryl after everything else he'd said. For some reason those words didn't make his insides jump, no sense of panic washing over him.
"I take it my daughter said yes," Hershel commented evenly.
Daryl nodded slowly, trying to gauge Hershel's lack of reaction.
"You two didn't say anything. There is no ring on her finger," Hershel stated. While he wasn't surprised as he probably should have been, Hershel wasn't exactly sure what emotion he was supposed to be having. He wasn't angry. He wasn't ecstatic. Maybe he could be best described as cautiously reserved at the moment, perhaps a little annoyed at having to fund a second wedding so soon. He huffed a little at his own thought, having just finished paying off Maggie's nuptials.
"Just asked her Friday night. We decided to wait to say anythin'. I wanted to talk to you first," Daryl explained, looking wary of Hershel's dry reaction.
"To ask my blessing? It's a little late for that, young man, don't you think?" Hershel hadn't meant to sound so derisive, but he couldn't help the sharpness. Maybe it was the fact that Daryl hadn't actually asked before. Hershel was an old fashioned man. He knew it wasn't modern, but he sure as hell respected Glenn when he'd come to talk to him about Maggie and marriage. His daughters were more modern than he'd ever dreamed of so he knew neither would think it was warranted.
"I get it," Daryl relented in a low, tense voice. "You don't exactly approve of me…"
"I didn't say that," Hershel interjected, shifting his jaw out further. Even though it was in the past and Daryl had been making up for it, it still stung a little when Hershel thought of how Daryl's earlier neglect had negatively affect both Beth and Hope.
"Nah, you don't have to," Daryl objected. "And I didn't exactly ask her proper… the way she deserved, but Beth still said yes. I ain't exactly the man she deserves either, but again, she still said yes. I'm too damn old and it's happening pretty damn fast, but that don't change the fact that I love her. I love her, Hershel. Can't believe I didn't see it right away, can't believe I waited so damn long after I realized it. I want her and Hope in my life… with me every day. I want to be a family, the kind Beth and Hope deserve. I love them both," Daryl got out, his words getting faster toward the end with the earnestness of his beliefs.
Hershel took a moment to ponder what Daryl just told him. His initial lack of reaction settled into a warmth in his chest, a spark that had been missing before. Hershel believed the younger man's words; he believed Daryl loved his girls and that's all that truly mattered in life.
"Length of time between knowing you love someone and marrying don't matter much in the grand scheme of the universe. Same with age as long as you're both consenting adults," offered Hershel smoothly, his tone offering ease to the tension that had been visible in Daryl. "I knew Beth's mother, Annette, about two months before I asked her to dinner. I asked her to be my wife on our third date, and we were married six weeks later. Top it all off, I was eighteen years older than her. None of that changed the fact that we both were in love, we both knew this was it."
Daryl took in a deep, calming breath and accepted what seemed to be Hershel's vague approval.
There was more Hershel felt he needed to so suddenly; there was something he wanted to do for his future son-in-law. "Follow me," he said, nodding towards the house.
Together the two men walked into the house. The scent of dinner floated in the air, making Hershel's stomach rumble. They didn't pause to explain what they had been doing, despite the curious looks both men got up entering the house. Maggie called after them to wash up as they made their way up the stairs, Hershel still leading with Daryl right behind him. Dinner was about to be served.
Hershel knew what he had planned wouldn't take long, but that didn't take away from the gravity of action. He led Daryl into his bedroom, slowing his pace as he approached his night stand. Hershel drew in a deep breath and sat on his bed, pulling a small box out from the top drawer. He held the velvet black box in his enclosed hand for a lingering moment, knowing it would most likely be the last time he'd be able to.
His old blue eyes rose to look at Daryl. "These are Beth's mother's rings," Hershel said heavily as he held the box out to Daryl.
Daryl hesitated, not reaching for the box in Hershel's out stretched hand. "You sure?"
Hershel nodded and pushed the ring box further towards the younger man. No, he didn't actually want to give them up, but he knew Annette would have wanted it. She had always planned on passing them along to one of her children.
Daryl still seemed uncertain, his mouth drawn into a flat line so Hershel wanted to reassure him. "Son, I want you to have these for Beth. I gave Glenn Maggie's mother's rings too. Beth gets her mama's. It's what my Annette wanted. You go ask her proper when you're ready… this time with a ring," Hershel ordered with a lift of his brows.
With his lips quirking up slightly in a smile, Daryl finally took the ring from Hershel. He opened the box to look at the set of golden rings, one with a round half karat diamond sparkling in the low light. Annette's face had glowed with absolute love when Hershel had slid that ring onto her elegant finger, her beautiful eyes shining brightly with unshed tears of happiness. Hershel hoped his daughter, who looked so much like her mother that it made him ache some days, had the same happy and loving reaction. Hershel knew she would if she had half the love for the man before him as Hershel could see in Daryl as he looked down at those rings in his hand.
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A/N: Hopefully you enjoyed that chapter. Let me know if there is something else you'd like to have written. I can't promise I can make it work, but I'll try - currently trying to work in a strip tease and bachelorette party… I'll try to post monthly or so…