Prompt Title: 20: Children
Rating: T
Characters: Daryl Dixon, Andrea, Grimes Baby (Carol)
Word Count: 1,000+
Summary: Daryl's biggest secret? He happened to be really good with kids.
Author's Note: Did you guys see the episode of Walking Dead where Daryl was holding a baby? SO FUCKING CUTE! I was dying! This prompt is sort of based off of that moment. I pretty much bullshitted my way through this one, so I apologize if it doesn't seem genuine. I kind of lost steam half way through. And the ending is so shitty but I don't feel like changing it. Oh well, cheers!
. . .
If there was one thing that Andrea wasn't expecting when she was reunited with the group, it was Daryl holding a baby.
Andrea had been traveling alone for months after she and Michonne had went their separate ways. Stumbling upon the prison was a miracle in of itself; to find a secure shelter and better yet one that held her old group was more than she could ever ask for. It was upsetting to see that the group had dwindled to such a small number, but there was a great relief when she found Daryl was still there.
She did not expect to see him holding a baby girl when she saw him for the first time in a year.
Of course, he quickly handed the baby over to Maggie and embraced her with such ferocity that she couldn't breathe for a few seconds. Afterwards, she stared at the baby for several long seconds before asking, "Is that yours?"
He chuckled, "No, it's Lori's." There was a moment of silence for their lost friend as he continued, "The little ass-kicker."
Later when they were lying in bed together, he filled her in on all the events that happened while she was gone. How Lori and T-Dog died, how Carol was missing but then was eaten, how they had met the prisoners; her told her everything. Daryl had become a second father to the baby, who they had named after Carol.
"I didn't know you were so good with kids." Andrea commented idly, drawing lazy patterns over Daryl's bare chest.
"I ain't." he replied.
She rolled her eyes, "Whatever you say, Dixon."
. . .
Carol started to grow up. Fast.
She could walk on her own and she didn't need baby formula any more. She said her first word, which coincidentally was "daddy". Her dark brown hair started growing out and she was able to eat other things besides the gross spinach baby food.
They were all there to help her through it all. Andrea and Daryl were the top care takers next to Rick, acting as godparents to the girl. Carol subconsciously preferred Daryl over Andrea, but she didn't mind too much. It was worth it to see Daryl's face soften as he held her delicately in his arms.
They sat in the cell together, Carol in her arms as she hummed her to sleep. Daryl sat next to her, cleaning his crossbow bolts thoroughly. She bounced the baby lightly in her arms as she slowly drifted off into a peaceful slumber.
"This is nice," Andrea said to no one in particularly, leaning against the cement wall.
"Hmm?" Daryl asked, not looking up from his work.
"Just sitting here, not worrying about walkers or surviving or anything else." She explained, slowing the bouncing motion with her arms.
"Yeah, I guess." He agreed, glancing up at her briefly.
She smiled at him, returning her gaze back to the little girl. Sighing deeply, she closed her eyes and thought about having a home in the countryside with Daryl and kids of their own. Soon enough, she drifted off to dreamland like the baby in her arms.
. . .
The thought occurs to her late at night when she's lying in bed next to a sleeping Daryl.
She was thinking about how Carol, who was now around two years old, was chasing Daryl around in the field in the prison earlier that day. They were a cute duo as they played in the yard and Andrea couldn't help but smile the whole time she watched them.
She got so caught up sometimes that she forgot that Carol was not their daughter. After seeing the way Daryl interacted with children, she couldn't help but think about having a child of their own. It was ridiculous to think about starting a family in the middle of this hell hole but a girl can dream, right?
She felt his arm tighten around her waist as he shifted in his sleep, turning slightly towards her. Right then and there, she decided that it wouldn't hurt to ask him about it.
. . .
It was early the next morning and the group was gathered on the first floor of the prison, sharing a peaceful breakfast. Andrea came down from the cell and sat next to Daryl on the cold bench, grabbing a plate of whatever was being served. He grunted, his way of greeting her.
After their breakfast, Rick assigned them different duties for the day. Andrea and Daryl were told to watch the perimeter to make sure that no walkers were intruding. They made their way out to the field silently, each carrying a gun.
Andrea was anxious; she was nervous to talk to Daryl about the prospect of having kids. How would he respond? She knew that men usually freaked out over this sort of thing. What would he say? He'd probably call her stupid and then he'd say that this was no time to have a baby. But she had to ask. The worse thing he could do was say no.
It was silent between the pair as they scanned the fence, walking along the perimeter and watching the few walkers who clambered at the fences. Andrea was trying to work up the nerve to speak and Daryl saw the pained expression on her face, "What's up with ya, woman?"
"Do you ever think about having a kid of our own?" she all but blurted out, catching him way off guard. He stopped in his tracks, looking at her as if she had two heads or something.
"What?" he finally asked.
"I said," she hesitated, "Don't you want to have a child of our own?"
He paused for a moment, looking down at his boots, "I don't know. Why do we gotta have a kid? I mean, we got Carol."
"Yeah, but it isn't the same." Andrea said, crossing her arms.
He sighed, nodding slightly, "You really wanna have a kid right now?"
"I think we could take care of her. You're so good with Carol." She shrugged and continued walking forward, Daryl lagging behind.
"Fine," he said at last, "then I guess we're havin' a kid."