AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"Daddy! Daddy! Da-DEE!"
The loudness, quickness, and enthusiasm varied every time the word was yelled up toward the roof. The speaker was trying out a variety of pronunciations and stresses on the two syllables that were necessary to form the word.
"I think that's for you," Tyreese offered with a low and throaty laugh from where he was working.
"What give it away?" Daryl asked.
"You're one of the very few people around here that answers to Daddy," Tyreese said. "At least that I've encountered. And I can recognize Sophia's voice."
"Daddy!" The yell became, suddenly, sharper and a great deal more hysterical. This time, it ended by being punctuated by the most sorrowful cries that Daryl had heard in some time. If it hadn't been for the fact that he knew that Sophia was surrounded by people and perfectly safe, he might have reacted dramatically to try to reach her and save her from whatever was killing her.
"Jesus," he muttered. "You reckon they're dismembering her?"
Tyreese laughed again.
"Probably skinning her alive to cook for lunch," he offered.
"I'll be back," Daryl said. He carefully arranged his tools so that nothing would go sliding down the roof. He had a feeling his toddler was down below, and the last thing he wanted was a hammer or something like that to go sliding down and fall on her.
"Take your time," Tyreese said. "It's time to break for a while anyway."
Daryl hummed at him, half in appreciation, and made his way slowly down the roof so that he didn't fall on Sophia in place of the hammer that he'd secured.
At the bottom of the roof, he found the ladder, but first he simply sat down and peered over the side.
Sophia was sitting on her bottom, below and just beside the ladder, looking up and crying miserably.
Carol was not far from her. It appeared she'd been called over by the new level of hysteria from which the little girl seemed to be suffering.
"What happened?" Daryl asked.
"Nothing happened," Carol said. "But she won't go down for a nap. Beth even offered to lay down with her and let Sophia sleep in her bed."
Sophia's next piteous declaration of his "name" came out almost as "Wawee" and was punctuated with the sound of someone drowning and gurgling through a throat full of liquid. In response to it, Sophia choked on her own sorrow and began hacking. Carol was gathering up their soggy and heartbroken daughter when Daryl descended the ladder. Coughing and sputtering, Sophia reached for him and he took her immediately from Carol's arms.
Carol looked, honestly, like she could use a nap as much as Sophia.
Almost immediately, Sophia stopped howling. The tears were real enough that they didn't stop flowing right away and her sobs kept choking her in something akin to hiccups.
"Shhhhh," Daryl cooed, holding her against his chest. "Shhhh." He patted her back and slowly she calmed. Carol smiled at him. "What?" He asked, barely giving voice to the mostly mouthed question.
Carol didn't drop her smile. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders.
"It just reminds me of when she was a baby," Carol said, "and you used to get her to stop crying when I couldn't."
"Weren't that you couldn't," Daryl said, "was that everybody needs a break."
"It was that she loves her Daddy dearly," Carol said. "Same as today."
Sophia was rooting her face into his neck. It almost hurt because she was aggressively rooting him. She was exhausted and he didn't need anyone to tell him that. She hung heavy and almost limp in his arms.
"She's still a baby," he offered.
"She's growing up," Carol said softly.
"Still my baby," Daryl said.
Carol smiled softly.
"Always will be," she said. "For both of us."
"Speakin' of babies," Daryl said, "I think the lil' one's drainin' you. You lookin' about dead on your feet, woman. Maybe you oughta go take you a nap."
"Can't," Carol said. "This many people in the prison? We've been working nonstop. Between the cleaning and the cooking—I only left long enough to check on Sophia when she shooed Andrea way."
Daryl leaned and pressed his lips to Carol's cheek. Sophia perked up a little and picked her head up off his shoulder. Carol smiled at the kiss and pursed her lips for another. He gave her one and she came back for more when he tried to pull away.
"Hungry?" Daryl asked, laughing to himself. She didn't look as tired as she had second before. There was something else in her expression. Her pupils dilated quickly.
"Starving," she said. Daryl felt his body respond to her words. He knew she wasn't talking about food.
"Lemme see about takin' care of her," Daryl said. "Get her to N-A-P with B-E-T-H. Then we'll see about gettin' you a snack. Roundin' it off with a nap."
"There isn't time," Carol said, practically mournfully.
Daryl laughed to himself.
"I ain't askin'," he said. "I'm tellin'. And you point me in the direction of the asshole that tries to say there ain't time. There's a half a dozen women workin' with you an' Andrea. Thirty more ramblin' around here pretendin' to do shit. There's time, an' you gonna take it. So, you might as well take this lil' bit of time while I'm with Soph to go an' get Andrea set up on what she needs to handle while you're gone. If they can't handle this shit for a couple of hours, maybe we got no business lettin' 'em all go on anyway."
Carol smirked, but raised her eyebrows at him.
"Little ears are listening," she warned.
"I know," Daryl said. "Go do what you gotta do. We goin' for a walk."
Carol nodded her head. She leaned and kissed Sophia's cheek. The toddler looked at her with sleepy eyes and almost purple eyelids.
"I love you, sweetheart," Carol said.
"Love you, Mommy," Sophia offered quietly.
Now that she was in Daryl's arms, there seemed to be little need for words. She was satisfied. He imagined that a short walk around the yard would be all it took to send the little girl off to slumbering. Daryl watched Carol as she moved slowly—heavily—back toward where the small mass of women was gathered. Daryl couldn't tell who was preparing for lunch, who was doing laundry, and who was really just waiting for Carol to come and command them. Andrea seemed to be doing her best to shuffle the newer arrivals around. Daryl was confident she'd be able to handle things when Daryl returned to relieve them of their leader.
As Daryl started his walk, he became quickly aware that he was accompanied. He could feel the presence of someone, and he glanced over his shoulder to see that Tyreese was a few steps behind him. The man was smiling, and he waved. The wave, if it were meant for Daryl, would have been a bit creepy when coupled with the smile. When Daryl glanced at Sophia, though, and realized that she was giving the big man a very toothy—and slightly flirty—grin, Daryl laughed to himself over Tyreese's amiable response to the little girl.
"You like that?" Daryl asked Sophia.
She looked at him and smiled with the same toothy grin. She laughed, the sound escaping her in a burst, before she turned back to look at Tyreese. She squealed at him when he made a ridiculous face at her and waved again. She buried her head against Daryl's shoulder in a playful manner. Having her head resting against him once more, though, clearly made her sleepy again. She suddenly scrubbed her face against him again.
Tyreese caught up to him, then.
"Sophia, you know Ty." Daryl said. She peeked at Tyreese, and Daryl craned his neck a bit to see her.
"We met a couple of times," Tyreese confirmed. Daryl already knew it to be true. Sophia's shy act was just that—it was something she was choosing to perform. She was flirting with Tyreese, and he was playing back with her.
"I think she might like you," Daryl said. "She only flirts with people she likes. Me, her Uncle Merle, Andrea, Papa Hershel…it's really kinda like an honor if Sophia's gonna flirt with you like that. Makin' eyes at you an' laughin'."
"Stop, Daddy," Sophia offered, her voice muffled by his shoulder.
He patted her back and she settled, again, against him.
"You don't like me talkin' about your flirtin'?" Daryl asked. "That's private?"
"Stop, Daddy," Sophia said, this time with a little more force behind the words. She tensed like she was about to push against him and sit up so that he'd take her more seriously.
"Shhh," he soothed. He rubbed her back. "I hear ya. I won't say nothin' else about it."
Sophia settled in against him again and let out a satisfied hum as she found the sweet spot of comfort with her face buried in the crook of his neck. He kept rubbing her back as he walked. She was desperate for sleep. He could tell that. She would drift off soon if he let her. The only thing that would stop her was if he let her know, in any way, that's what he expected.
Tyreese kept step with him as they walked through the yard.
"You like kids?" Daryl asked. He felt that he already knew the answer, but he was looking for conversation and the question offered itself as a way to fill the silence between them.
"Doesn't everyone?" Tyreese asked.
"Not at all," Daryl said. "My brother—sometimes he says he don't like kids."
"You don't believe him?" Tyreese asked.
"Sometimes I think kids scare him," Daryl said.
Tyreese laughed to himself.
"You have to excuse me, but I've known Merle a while," Tyreese said. "He's an asshole. I'm sorry because—I know he's your brother."
"No offense," Daryl said. "He's my brother—so I already know he's an asshole. It ain't like you tellin' me some big secret."
"I've never seen him scared of anything before," Tyreese said.
"That just tells me you don't know him," Daryl said. "Merle ain't scared of no boogeyman. And they ain't a man drawin' air that scares him—as far as if he's after Merle. Merle don't spook easy. But there's things that scare Merle that—ain't what traditionally scares everybody else, I guess."
"Maybe that's true for all of us," Tyreese said. He was quiet for a moment. "What scares you?"
Daryl laughed to himself. The question was truly innocently asked. There wasn't a hint of malice in the man's voice. For two weeks they'd been working together on one project or another and Daryl was starting to count the man as a very good acquaintance, even if calling him a friend was a little premature. Daryl forced the laugh out to cover the uncomfortable feeling that the question still pulled up in him.
"Lil' damn personal, don't you think?" He asked.
Tyreese laughed to himself.
"I'm sorry, man," he offered. "Didn't mean nothing by it. Thought that's what we were talking about. Forget it. Not a big deal."
Daryl heard absolute sincerity in the words. Tyreese wasn't offended. He was truly ready to drop it right then and there. He wouldn't ask again and his first questioning had simply been to continue the conversation as they stretched their legs.
Over the past two weeks, moving from job to job and back again, they'd shared tidbits of themselves. They'd shared nuggets of information. Some of the information had been quite private. Tyreese had once been married. He'd once had a daughter. He had neither now, and Daryl didn't have to know what had happened to his family. Tyreese didn't offer that information, either. In fact, he didn't mention his family to anyone except Daryl, and Daryl didn't mention it either. Those weren't his wounds to dig around in, after all, and Tyreese knew his reasons for hiding his past until he was ready to share it.
Daryl could understand that. Tyreese didn't know, after all, that Sophia wasn't Daryl's biological child. He didn't know much of Daryl's or Carol's past, really.
They all had things they kept to themselves until the moment just made it right to share.
At this point, Tyreese had a sister. She was his only family in the world and he was ferociously protective of her.
His question to Daryl had only been an effort to get to know someone better that he was, perhaps, hoping to call a friend.
Daryl cleared his throat.
"Losin' this," Daryl said.
"What?" Tyreese asked.
"You asked what the hell scares me," Daryl said, trailing his fingers over Sophia's back. He could tell from her steady breathing that she was either asleep or dreadfully close to it. "Losin' this. That's what the hell scares the life outta me."
Tyreese nodded; his brow furrowed.
"The prison?" Tyreese asked. Daryl could tell that there wasn't a hint of sincerity behind the question. He felt obligated to ask it, perhaps, but it was clear that he didn't mean it.
"No," Daryl said. "I mean—I don't wanna lose it neither, but if we did? Hell—we'd be alright. Rebuild somewhere else. Somethin' else. Losin' this—my family. That's what scares me."
"Understand," Tyreese said, barely making the word audible and clear.
"What scares you?" Daryl asked.
Tyreese sucked in a breath, held it, and breathed it out slowly with a bit of a grunt. He didn't scold Daryl for asking him a difficult question. Instead, he considered the answer carefully.
"I already lost it. So, never finding what you have again," Tyreese offered.
The answer hit Daryl like a punch in the gut. Around them, the prison practically buzzed with life. Everyone was busy or, at the very least, worked to appear busy. They hopped from task to task like bees gathering pollen from a field of flowers.
They were gathering up promises of a better future.
Daryl leaned his head just enough to hug Sophia a little closer to him. She didn't stir. She wouldn't stir, either, when he made the transfer, soon, to Beth's arms so that she could go down for a nap.
"I hope to hell you find it, man," Daryl offered. "And soon."