AN: Here we are, a little self-indulgent fluffy.
I hope that you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"He absolutely didn't mean anything by it, Daryl," Carol said with a laugh.
Daryl was sitting on the side of the bed, and he was sulking to the point that his irritation was palpable.
When it had happened, he'd been bothered, but he'd quickly gotten over it when he'd gotten swept up in the merriment of the moment. He'd been distracted, then, by conversation and congratulations. The whole family knew their news now. Everyone knew that a brand new baby would be joining them sometime after the winter thawed. Even Sophia knew, though they hadn't taken the time yet to tell her what it meant in a way that she could understand. All that she knew was that everyone was happy—and that made her happy, too.
Daryl's distraction had continued while he'd told Sophia her bedtime story and while the little girl cuddled with them, and it had lasted through tucking her in to sleep for the night.
It must have been when Daryl slipped out of the prison to smoke a cigarette that, left alone with his thoughts in the cool night air, he'd started to overthink what had happened and he'd started to take it to heart. That wasn't something entirely uncommon with Daryl. Carol knew, by now, that when he was left alone with his thoughts, there was always a chance that his insecurities were going to convince him of something negative that simply wasn't true.
Glenn hadn't meant anything by it.
But now Daryl was sitting and stewing in some misery of his own creation.
"He said it like it wasn't even possible," Daryl said.
"I didn't take it that way," Carol responded. She touched Daryl's arm, but he didn't relax. He wasn't ready to relax just yet. He needed to sit with this a bit longer before he was ready to let it go.
"He didn't act like that when it was Rick an' Lori that said they was gonna have a kid," Daryl said.
"To be fair, we don't know what he acted like," Carol said. "He knew before any of the rest of us did, and it wasn't like they formally announced the pregnancy. There was too much—complication—surrounding the whole situation."
"It was like—he couldn't believe we could do it or somethin'," Daryl said.
Carol laughed to herself.
"Maybe it was simply that he thought he and Maggie would be next," Carol offered.
"It was how he said it," Daryl said. "Like—like it weren't that you was pregnant that surprised him. It was like—it was like it was the fact that you was pregnant that got him."
Carol laughed again.
"If you change the sound of your voice," she said, "and the stress on your words, does it really change the meaning that dramatically?"
"We're every bit as likely to have a kid as anybody else," Daryl said.
"Clearly," Carol remarked. She readjusted her pillow to get comfortable. "We're going to have a baby, Daryl. We're not only every bit as likely, but we're—I guess we're super likely." She laughed to herself and patted the bed next to her. "Come to bed?"
Daryl glanced at her and went back to troubling his thumb for a moment. He wasn't ready. Not just yet. He still needed a moment to sit with this before he was ready to let it go and come back to comfort that their cell and bed offered him.
Carol had a lot of demons. They lived with her. They lived inside of her. She didn't know if they would ever leave her—not entirely—because Ed had planted them so deep within her psyche. Daryl was exceptionally patient with her demons, however. She could bring them to him, lay them at his feet, and he would tell her what she needed to hear.
Daryl knew that, sometimes, she just needed to hear that what Ed had said was wrong. And sometimes she needed to hear it a few dozen times a day.
Daryl had demons, too. They lived with him every bit as much as Carol's demons lived with her. It had taken a bit of work on Carol's part to convince Daryl that she wouldn't judge him for his demons, but she'd finally gotten him to the point where he would bring them to her. She had learned that, though Daryl needed to hear her words when he was feeling particularly plagued by some insecurity—something that happened sometimes a few dozen times a day—he also responded best if she could get him to let her touch him.
Daryl liked to be wrapped in her love. It was there that he felt safe, warm, and loved. It was there that he felt good—and like a good man. And, like all good things, the affection was reciprocal. Carol found love and protection in Daryl's embrace.
They had created an oasis for themselves in their cell.
First had come the removal of the horrible tiny cot. They'd found a furniture warehouse and everyone that had wanted them had gotten proper beds. If they were calling the prison home, it was only natural that it needed to feel like home. It was a luxury, perhaps, but a good night's sleep meant more productive days working toward things that benefitted all of them.
Carol had found the pillows, linens, and the lamp. She'd found the cloth for the curtain, sewed it herself by hand, and hung it to give them privacy.
Daryl had joked that she'd been trying to seduce him with comfort and a promise of home, but she'd seen the look of pure joy on his face that coming to the cell each night brought him. The cell wasn't much by the standards of the world that they'd once known, but it was the nicest home that either of them had known in a very long time.
It was full of love and, now, it seemed that it was going to perform the impossible feat of becoming even fuller.
"Do you think..." Daryl started, but he paused.
"Do I think what, Daryl?" Carol asked, pressing him to continue. She knew that the sooner she could purge him of the negative thoughts, the sooner they could simply move on with their lives.
"Do you think—maybe it wasn't even about you," Daryl said. "Because you Sophia's Mama. Like her real Mama. Maybe it was about me. Maybe it was—that he figured I weren't like fit or somethin'."
Carol laughed to herself and swallowed it down when he cut his eyes at her. She gave him her best compassionate expression and relinquished the comfort that she'd found in the bed to crawl out from under the covers and come to him. She wrapped herself around him where he sat on the edge of the bed, near the foot, and she rested her head on his shoulder after she kissed his jaw.
"I sincerely believe that Glenn's question about whether we were 'really' expecting had nothing to do with his belief that either of us was worthy or capable of this. I believe we caught him off guard. And I also think that—maybe he thought you were teasing him. Sometimes you do like to tell him things and then give him a hard time about being gullible. Daryl—Glenn didn't mean anything by it."
"Who would joke about that?" Daryl asked.
"A lot of people," Carol assured him. "But do you know what the best thing is?"
Daryl moved so that he could look at her and Carol sat up so that he could make eye contact with her. She smiled at him and he mirrored her smile, whether or not he meant to do it intentionally.
"You?" Daryl asked.
Carol laughed to herself.
"You," she echoed. "But—what I was going to say is that—no matter what anybody meant or thought or anything...Daryl, the fact of the matter is that we're doing this."
His cheeks blushed, and it was obvious even in the dim light of the cell. Carol didn't think he was embarrassed, though, as much as he'd just been swept up in a wave of emotion that came with the reminder that this—this building of their family that he'd somewhat dreamed about since they'd decided to call themselves a family—was something that was genuinely happening. He swallowed.
"You're sure?" Daryl asked. "Hershel's sure?"
Carol had heard Daryl already ask the old man twice if he was positive that he couldn't have made a mistake—being a veterinarian and all and not accustomed to dealing with women like Carol—and she'd already assured Daryl a few times herself, but he needed a little more reassurance.
She nodded her head.
"And I don't take your disbelief to heart any more than I do Glenn's," she teased. She winked at him to let him know that she was playing with him and nothing more.
"I didn't mean nothin'," Daryl said.
"And neither did he," Carol said. "He's happy for us. Everyone's happy for us. And—this is absolutely happening."
Daryl came for a kiss, and Carol accepted and returned it with the most enthusiasm that she'd ever put into a kiss—not necessarily because she needed it, but because she felt that Daryl needed it. When they'd first started this relationship, Daryl had admitted that he'd been pretty limited in the relationship experience department. What he lacked in prior knowledge, though, he made up in enthusiasm. His earliest kisses had been clumsy and nervous. Now he had a full range of kisses from sweet and gentle to hungry and suggestive.
Though she'd loved dime store trash books for a quick read, Carol had always doubted that a kiss could truly take someone's breath away. Now that she had Daryl, though, she believed it. He knew how to rob her of her breath, and he did so often.
She smiled at him when the kiss broke—a kiss that left her lips stinging and her body begging for the more that she knew he would offer her if she only asked.
"I think it's time for bed, Pookie," Carol said. "I've already asked you to come to bed twice. Do I have to beg you?"
Daryl laughed to himself and his smile turned up at the corner in the mischievous way that it did whenever he was about to start teasing Carol. He raised his eyebrows at her.
"I might like it if you did," he said.
"Oh," Carol said. "So that's how you want to play it? First you—you get me pregnant and then you want me to beg you to come to bed with me?"
If Daryl's cheeks had been pink before, they blushed red now. He held his ground, though, despite the fact that he was clearly struggling with his own inclination to simply back out of the somewhat request. Carol had full intentions to humor him, though, so she didn't torture him long before she gave in.
"OK," she said. "Pookie—will you please come to bed?" She smiled at him. "I don't think I'm going to be able to stand it much longer. I've been—waiting—waiting to get my hands on you since—since before dinner." She swallowed. She felt her own face running hot. Just as Daryl had let her know that he had very little experience in the relationship department, she'd had to let him know that her experiences only went as far as Ed. That hardly made her an expert on anything romantic. Still, he forgave her the shortcomings that Ed had never really wanted to forgive her. Even if she wasn't any good at seduction, Daryl made her feel like she was to the best of his abilities. "It's starting to drive me crazy," she added.
The corner of his mouth curled up again.
"Crazy, huh?" He asked.
Carol nodded her head.
"I can barely stand it," she offered. "I really, really need you to come to bed."
The word "need," when Carol used it, always got Daryl's attention, no matter the context. He considered it his job and priority to care for her needs—all of them—to the best of his ability. It was clear that this was going to be no different.
The smile broke entirely and Daryl stood up long enough to shuck off the clothes that he hadn't finished shedding since he'd come in from smoking his cigarette. Almost immediately, he dived onto the bed and Carol laughed at the sensation of the hard rocking of the mattress. He was on top of her before she could even stop laughing, and he stole the last of her laughter with a kiss. He pushed her backward and she walked her body backward quickly enough that she bumped into the wall and had to take a moment to regain her composure to suit the supposedly-seductive tone of the moment.
But if Daryl thought she'd broken the mood, he didn't let it be known. Instead, he simply asked if she was OK and immediately went back to his work of offering her the hungry kisses that would, in a matter of minutes, start to work their way down her body.
It was clear that Daryl was ready to move past the moment of doubt and insecurity that had left him sulking earlier. There were, after all, more important things to worry about—like taking care of his partner and the mother of his children.
And Carol decided that she didn't really mind begging.