"You sure it's mine and not..." his voice faltered, his eyes drifting over his shoulder toward the camp, back towards the others.
She shook her head, closing her eyes, letting the tears that had been kept at bay fall. "It's yours," she assured him. "Daddy's books say the symptoms I have mean I'm about 4 months along."
Daryl clenched his fists. Four months. That's how long it had been since the group from Atlanta arrived at the farm. Four months since he and she met. Four months since their encounter the second night they were settling in. Four months since they sought comfort from one another that they couldn't seem to get anywhere else. Four months since she scared the living shit out of him.
"And me and Glenn..." she paused, unsure how to delicately phrase what she needed to say. "Never without condoms."
"That's alot of fuckin' condoms," he quipped, his voice holding nothing but dry humor. Daryl wasn't jealous of Maggie and Glen, necessarily. It was just hard to not notice how much the two spent at it like rabbits. They were like teenagers. Who could blame them really? It was an escape from the hell they were trapped in. If anything Daryl was jealous of their ability to relax enough to enjoy each other.
As he watched her tears fall, the older man's fists clenched tighter, his eyes closing, his face turning from her. "What'da'ya want from me?" he asked, trying hard to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "Lookin' for me to fight Short Round for your womanly affections?" he asked dryly.
He didn't see it coming but he should have. Maggie's fist, hardened by a life time of farm work, hit his cheek, sending him sprawling across the dirt as she stood up, brushing dirt from her bottom. "Fuck you, Dixon," Maggie growled. "I thought maybe you might want to know before I told Glenn the truth."
Daryl slowly rose to his feet, a hand rubbing his cheek. "You sure that's a good idea?" He closed one eye in the sun, squinting the other to stare at her. "Maybe just let him think its his, and be done with it. No harm, no one needs know."
Maggie clenched her teeth together, her eyes flashing anger at the man. "I don't like lying to people I care about."
He just shook his head at her. "What difference is it going to make? You really think he's gonna be ok raising that kid knowing its mine? Just let him believe what he wants to believe, Maggie. I promise, cross my heart n hope to die no one will hear different from me." He turned to pick up his knife, done with this conversation. Done with this situation, again.
"You want nothing to do with your own child?" she asked harshly. "That's cold, even coming from you."
Daryl whirled on her. "What the fuck do you want from me, Maggie? Huh? To beg you to leave his sorry ass for mine? Cuz ya know you can damn well stop dreaming 'bout that one." That thought certainly had never entered Maggie's mind. What happened between them happened out of a basic need, a desire that had been suppressed for too long. An itch to scratch, nothing more. And the gruff man in front of her had itched it for her, a little too well if she was completely honest with herself. But a relationship with him. Yeah no. Nothing she wanted anything to do with. And he made it abundantly clear the following morning he didn't want it either.
"Use that pretty little head of yours and think this through."
Her eyes narrowed at the arrogance in his voice. "What the fuck do you think I've been doing for the last week you asshole? Been on a fucking picnic?" Clenching her teeth she glanced over her shoulder at the camp before closing the distance between them. Her finger poked him squarely in the chest. "I'm not asking you for a goddamn thing. I was under the mistaken impression that you gave a shit about your own blood."
"What fuckin' difference will it fuckin' make? It ain't like I am heir to some fortune. The name Dixon ain't gonna get that kid any further than...than..." Daryl realized he had no idea what Glenn's last name was, and he was suddenly annoyed at himself for being ashamed of that fact. "Anyone else's." He ran his hand through his hair. "Especially now."
Maggie crossed her arms over her chest, "Your name ain't the fuckin' point and you know it." They stared at each other, hard for a few silent tense moments. Finally she threw her hands up in the air, turning on her heel. "Fine. Fuck you." She stalked back toward the house, and Daryl swore the way she moved, if she had been a horse her tail would have been been twitching the whole way.