The Wonder That's Keeping the Stars Apart

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The piglets were small, with wide, shiny snouts that snuffled at Daryl's trailing boot laces as they followed him around the straw-lined pen. No doubt they were looking for their breakfast—the old man said Maggie fed them about this time every morning, but Daryl didn't have the parts nor the goods to satisfy their hunger, and that led him to ask, yet again, "You sure 'bout this?"

Hershel nodded. "I'm sure. We lost their mother weeks ago, lost part of the litter soon after that. Maggie's done an admirable job raising the rest of them to this point, but with the harvest, and all her other responsibilities around the farm..." he trailed off, removing the straw hat from his head and hanging it on the nearest fence post. "They need more time and care than she has to give to them. I'm sure you understand."

Daryl understood. Perhaps a little too well. His squinted blue gaze landed on the top of Lizzie's head where it peeked between two of the lower fence rails and the white smudge of her little fingers, and his lips quirked into something faintly resembling a smile. His eyes met the old farmer's briefly before he addressed the poorly hidden child. "C'mon out, Lizzie."

Two miniature leather boots climbed the fence rails, and before long a disheveled cloud of wheat-colored hair appeared. Lizzie hid much of her face behind her folded arms, allowing her father only a glimpse of her curious, watchful eyes. A little furrow pinched her brows together as he approached her perch with slow, measured steps.

"Thought I told you to help T load the wagon."

"T said he don't need no help," Lizzie mumbled into the fold of her sleeve. "He said he and Noah was doing just fine."

She traced the whorls in the weathered wood that supported her skinny frame with a single dirty nail, over and over, over and over, refusing to meet his stare directly, and Daryl stopped just short of the fence and crossed his arms across his chest, waiting. When she finally did look up, he sighed.

Hershel took that as his cue to leave, slipping his hat back on his head and clapping a firm hand over Daryl's shoulder as he passed by. "Choice is yours, Son."

The gate groaned shut behind him, and Daryl ran both hands through the mess of his hair before placing them on the wooden beams on either side of the little girl. His voice was gruff but soft when he spoke. "You never talked to T, did ya?"

Lizzie hesitated only a moment before shaking her head.

Like Merle, Daryl weren't much for religion. He'd always believed in more practical things, things he could touch with his own hands, see with his own eyes. He'd never took too kindly to the notion that his life would be governed by an invisible, all-knowing Almighty. Didn't mean he had the inclination to force his own views on nobody else, and when Lizzie brought her mama's Bible to him, that first Spring after they put her in the ground, Daryl had opened it up and started reading. It'd brought the child comfort, those familiar stories that were so foreign on his tongue, and he weren't ashamed to admit he'd used some of what he learned inside of it to help with her and the twins' raising. Merle had helped with everything else, and it'd been enough, they'd been enough. Until they weren't. He captured that one restless finger, dwarfed her small hand with his own, and looked intently in her eyes. "You know what the Bible says 'bout lyin'."

Lizzie's lips tugged downward, and she murmured a shameful acknowledgment. "Yes, Papa. You mad?"

"I look like I'm mad?" Daryl bent to touch his forehead to hers, and the frown on Lizzie's mouth twitched into something else altogether, something light and relieved, and the breath she'd been holding left her in one big exhalation. Her long lashes tickled his skin, and he let a rare smile reign free, pulling back to kiss the top of her head. "Go along with ya now. Still got a lot to do 'fore we head home."

Lizzie hopped down, scampering across the green expanse of Hershel's yard and disappearing inside the farmhouse.

Daryl turned when he heard a throat clear, and Noah gave him a deferential nod.

"Mr. Greene said you needed help with them pigs."

Four squealing piglets were loaded in a straw filled crate in the back of the wagon along with nearly half of the supplies Michonne had delivered from the general store, and Otis and Lilly were harnessed and ready when Daryl made his way back to the farmhouse to collect his family.

Mika was sitting one step below Beth, the youngest Greene finishing up plaiting the thick honey strands of the little girl's hair into a neat braid and tying it with Carol's gifted ribbon.

A few feet away, Sam's short legs dangled from the edge of the rocking chair, his face sticky with the evidence of his broken promises, a gnawed nub of licorice clutched behind his back.

Maggie emerged from the house, Lizzie clinging to her waist, and smiled at him. In one hand, she held the gift Lizzie had yet to unwrap. The other cupped the back of the child's head, and she ruffled the girl's hair affectionately before gently prying her fingers from her belt and giving her a nudge in Daryl's direction. "You don't want to forget this."

Daryl took the small package from her hands, absently fingered the thin length of twine bound around it. He beckoned the twins, instructed them it was time to say their goodbyes, and turned to descend the steps before the screen door creaked open behind him.

Hershel gave Lilly one last fond pat between the ears and lowered his hand, his faded eyes dancing with knowing amusement. "Forgetting something, Son?"

T outright smirked, and Nicholas and Noah had the good grace to pretend not to have noticed.

Crimson colored Daryl's cheeks when he turned back around, and he had only the impression of scuffed boots, a dark, billowing skirt, and Patricia standing nearby as he mumbled a quiet apology. "M'sorry."

"It's okay."

Daryl shook his head and blindly held out his arm for his new bride to take. His heart started hammering behind his ribs when a delicate hand gripped his sleeve, and he felt her touch like the heat of the sun through the woven fabric as he helped her down the stairs. Softly, he told her, "S'not okay. I'm still new at this. What I mean is...been a long time. I'm not so good at bein' what other people expect." He caught the barest glimpse of a brave smile from the corner of his eyes, and the rapid beat of his pulse gradually started to slow. Still, he was grateful for the distraction offered when they reached the wagon, and Hershel nodded to Nicholas.

"One more thing before you go."

"Can't take no more from ya," Daryl protested as Lizzie clambered into the wagon. "You done enough already."

Hershel merely smiled, calm and kind, and placed a fatherly hand on Daryl's broad shoulder. "Consider it a wedding gift."

When the hired man returned from the barn, a sleek, healthy calf trailed behind him on a knotted rope.

Again, Daryl tried to object, but the old farmer wouldn't hear of it.

"This little fella's already been weaned, and I know he'll make a fine addition to your farm. Right, children?"

All three voiced their excited agreement, and Daryl's complaints softened as he allowed Hershel to pull him into the briefest of embraces. "Ya know this is too much."

"What I know," Hershel said, low enough that only Daryl and Carol could hear, "is you and those children and your pretty little bride, even Merle and his bride, are friends to this family, and Dale would be proud to see how far you've both come." He let Daryl go then and cupped a work-hewn hand over Carol's flushed cheek. "Take care of this one and the little ones for me, will you?"

"Yes, Sir. I will."

Patricia stepped forward to hug them both, Noah appearing to take the bag from her hands and safely stowing it in Lizzie's lap with a minimum of fretful mewling from the feline inside. T scooped a twin up in each arm and deposited them beside their sister, and Nicholas looped the calf's rope to the back of the wagon, and it was time.

Everything and everyone else faded into the background when Daryl finally allowed himself to look into those shiny blue sky eyes. "Ya ready? Long road ahead of us." His big hands settled awkwardly on her slim hips, and his eyes held more questions than his lips would willingly spill. He only hoped she could read them true. Her small hands lifted to fit over his shoulders and her sweet mouth curved into a shaky smile, and he released a deep breath, smiled back at her. "Alright. You hold on, okay?"

So...it's only been 7+ months since I updated this fic.

Sorry.

I hope you guys remember it, lol. It's still the slowest of slow burns if that helps. ;)

Not much happens in this chapter, but I hope you don't mind. This isn't exactly the most plot-driven story, at least not at the moment. That'll come later-provided I don't fall back down in the deep dark hole of writer's block again. For now, it's still a lot of character-driven stuff. It will probably retain a healthy amount of that, to be honest, so check out now if that's not your thing. Anyway...I'll stop my boring rambling now, and just say thank you to the faithful readers of this story. Your lovely words are what inspired me to keep pecking away at this until I finally managed to produce a new chapter. I'm not completely happy with it, but I never am, haha.

Always remember...feedback is love.

Thanks so much for reading!

P.S. Forgive any glaring typos. I went over this several times, but it's late (or early, depending on how you look at it), and I'm throwing in the towel. :)