Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Outside on his temporary front porch were his nephew Peter and a woman in a suit he had never seen before, and he nearly cursed his luck, because he had to look like shit. He cleared his throat and tried to speak, but the woman interrupted his attempt.
"Daryl Dixon?" She spoke in strong city accent, and Daryl knew instantly what had happened. Or close to it.
"That's me. Last time I checked, anyway." He folded his arms and glanced down at his nephew, seeing him looking a tad withdrawn and shy. "And you are?"
"I'm a friend of Patrick's mother. My name is Jacqui—"
"Patrick?" Daryl frowned. "His name is Peter."
"Yeah... a lot's changed since you last saw him." Peter averted his eyes, and Daryl clenched his jaw. "We have a lot to discuss. May we come inside?"
"Yeah, come on in." He moved aside and let them in, Peter ran to the sunroom and curled up on the coach there, viewing the outside through the glass windows, and Jacqui looked over the house, nodding to herself. "What's going on?"
"As you know, Patrick lives solely with his mother." He nodded. "Well, those circumstances have recently changed. She is in the hospital and unable to care for him right now. She has sent me to you, in hopes that you will temporarily take care of him. I have paperwork for you to sign, and there's luggage of his that needs moving, but we can get down to the details later."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Daryl scoffed lightly. "Yo—what?"
"Perhaps we should sit."
"Yeah, I think that'd be good."
Daryl showed Jacqui into the kitchen, where Aaron had vacated at the conversation he'd accidentally overheard, and Daryl helped himself to a cup of coffee. It was a beautiful cup of coffee, and Daryl downed it like a shot, ignoring how it burned his throat and went for round two.
"Mr. Dixon." Jacqui was sitting at the table, and Daryl joined her. "As I was saying, Clementine is no longer able to be to care for Patrick. She's in hospital, and she will be in there for several months. She has the proper paperwork in place and would like you to sign to become his temporary guardian."
Daryl drank his coffee and simply listened.
"If you do not wish to take him in, he will become a ward of the state, and we both know you don't want that, so please consider taking him in. We have a hotel—"
"I don't need time," Daryl interrupted her. "I'll sign."
She smiled. "Good. That's very good."
"He's my blood. I ain't gonna say no."
"Excellent." She cleared her throat. "I have my briefcase in the car. I'll be right back."
Jacqui left to get the paperwork from the car, Daryl polished off his second cup and felt sick, and Peter sat on the couch in the sunroom, stroking the pretty glass there. When Jacqui returned, Daryl read over the paperwork and found Clementine's signature and the notarization, and it all became so real. He couldn't believe it, but he signed. Any doubts weren't important. Blood was blood, and he'd always choose blood. Always.
"So, six months?" Daryl questioned as he signed.
"Yes." Jacqui nodded. "It may decrease based on how well she does in hospital, but I will inform you of her progress."
He didn't give two shits about how that bitch was doing, but he would keep informed for Peter's sake. He would want to know how his mother was doing. Daryl didn't want to leave him questioning.
"We already discuss financial—"
"I can afford to take him in. I don't need any money from her." Daryl's voice was full of venom, and Jacqui noted it. "Where's his belongings?"
"In the trunk."
"I'll unload 'em." Daryl straightened up. "This is effective immediately?"
"Yes. It's a private affair with the parent's consent, so no judge approval needed. All parties have signed, and the payments won't be necessary, so it's effective as of now."
"Good. Then his name is Peter, not Patrick."
Jacqui nodded. "Legally his name is Patrick Peter, a decision made by Clementine a few months ago, so I am sure he will respond better to his original name."
It pissed Daryl off that Clem would honestly try and change the name Merle had picked out for his son. He had gone over so many names and decided on Peter after his secret favorite movie, and Daryl would stand by it. She wouldn't erase all of Merle from his life. She just wouldn't.
Daryl and Jacqui unloaded the rest of Peter's belongings, Peter didn't move from the couch, and Aaron and Spike returned to the house once Jacqui drove off, having left Daryl with a carbon copy of the paperwork. Among other paperwork.
Peter glanced up from where he sat on the couch, and Daryl spoke softly with Aaron, and Peter's face lit up instantly at the sight of Spike. He removed his backpack and dropped down onto the floor to give affection to the beautiful beast, and Spike jumped his little ass, attacking him with sniffs and kisses both.
Daryl smiled at the sight of his two favorite people, but a sigh came first. "I don't know what the hell to do with this."
"Yeah, it's a lot." Aaron looked at the boy and puppy. "Why don't I take Spike and let you two talk?"
"No, he seems to like 'im, so I'll just talk to him with Spike there." He inhaled. "Call Carol and see if she has plans on comin' over. If she does, try and get her to not."
"You need time to figure out what this is?" Daryl nodded. "Okay, but I won't lie for you."
"You don't have to. Just let her know something came up, and I just don't...have time today. Let her know that tomorrow would be best."
"Okay, man."
Daryl approached his nephew and knelt down in front of him to get a better look of him, and he could not see a trace of Merle in the boy. He used to look just like him as a baby, but his eyes darkened, his complexion darkened, and beauty marks popped up everywhere. He did have that dark wavy hair of Merle's though, so that was something, but he took after his mother so much. Jesus. Merle would hate to see that now.
"Hey, Peter." Daryl smiled at him. "Been a while."
"Yeah, I know." He stopped scratching down the dog's back and glared at his uncle. "Guess we're just stuck with each other now."
Daryl frowned. The last time he'd seen the boy, they were thick as thieves, and yeah, it'd been a hot minute, but it hadn't been so long that Peter would treat him like a total stranger. Had it? "I know this is sudden, but...we'll make it work, right?"
"We have no choice." He stood up. "Where is my room? I'm kinda tired."
"There ain't a bed in the house, save for mine, but I'll go out and get you one today." He stood up. "Do you wanna come with me?"
"Tssh, yeah. You don't know what I like. Probably get a racecar bed or something like that," he muttered.
Daryl stood up now and rubbed the back of his neck. "Umm, the couch is a pull out. You can rest there till we're ready to head out."
"Thanks, I guess." He grabbed his backpack and headed to the couch.
Daryl nodded and went to find Aaron quickly, finding him on the phone with Carol, and he just snatched that phone out of his hands, finding a video chat open. "Hey, Carol?"
"Hey." She smiled at the sight of him. "I understand if you need some time, especially considering our heavy conversation—"
"Nah, no." He shook his head. "Uh, come on over. There's somethin' we need to discuss."
"Oh, okay. Um, I have a bit of work to do at my place, but I'll be over as soon as I can."
"As soon as you can," Daryl agreed. "Thanks."
"I'll see you then. Goodbye."
They ended the chat, Aaron immediately asked what the hell that was about, and Daryl wasn't sure how to answer, so he just told him he changed his mind. He didn't want to admit he needed Carol to help him smooth things over with his nephew. He knew she would help, but it'd truly be up to Daryl. He just had to break through that shell. Somehow.
Daryl and Peter departed from the house to pick out a bed for him, Aaron went into town to see what there was to see, and Spike remained inside, enjoying the air conditioning on the hot late summer day.
Daryl and Peter walked to the store after parking a couple blocks away, as there was no direct parking, and Daryl tried to make conversation, but Peter kept shutting it down, lost in his cell phone, and Daryl sighed to himself.
Peter peeked at his uncle and saw he was trying to make conversation with him, but Peter hadn't seen or heard from the man in years. He didn't know how to approach him, or how to begin a conversation. He wasn't even sure he wanted to. He'd agreed to this, but it wasn't really his choice. He was too young for it to be his choice. It simply was what it was. The sooner this was over, the better.
At the shop, Peter walked up and down the aisle to look over his options, and honestly a racecar bed would be super cool. He'd never had a bed of his own. He shared one with his mom or slept on the floor. They weren't a lot of options, not like this, and he chose the cheapest one, because he didn't want to break his uncle.
"You sure?" Daryl pointed the dingy little bed. "You might be too tall for it."
"Well, what would you do?" Peter asked.
"I'd go for bigger than a twin." He scanned the room and spotted a made-up kid's bed, and he waved Peter over to it. It was long enough and wide enough, and the frame had drawers he could put his belongings into. Plus, it was a cherry-red frame, and the last time they were together, that was his favorite color.
"What do you think?" Daryl placed a hand on his hip, the other hand used to gesture to the bed and frame.
"Isn't it too expensive?" Peter eyed the price tag.
"I didn't ask how much it costs. I asked what you thought."
"It's cool." He shrugged a shoulder, very nonchalant.
"Cool, huh?" Daryl smirked. "We'll get it then. You can pick the room you want it to go in when we get back."
"Okay, thanks." He flashed a grateful smile then went back to playing on his phone while Daryl handled the rest.
They started back to the car once the payment and shipping was handled, Daryl asked if he wanted to get something to eat, some ice cream or something, and Peter simply shrugged a shoulder. Daryl tapped that same shoulder and escorted him toward the dinner, where the best cheeseburgers in town were made.
Daryl ordered two cheeseburgers and two milkshakes to go, and they sat outside near the park and chowed down. Daryl could tell by how the boy devoured the cheeseburger he hadn't eaten anything in a hot minute, and it went right through him. He wanted to call up Clem and demand to know what the hell she was doing she right now. Ugh, the audacity of that woman.
"So, how's school?" Daryl licked grease off his lip.
"It's school."
Daryl swallowed and tried once, "How's your friends? Got a lot of 'em still?"
"Not really," he murmured. "Moved around a lot. Haven't seen them in a while."
"Oh." He brought the straw to his milkshake up to his lips and sucked in more air than shake. "Wait, why y'all been movin' round?"
"Dunno, just have been." He shoveled in the rest of his cheeseburger and sucked down his shake.
Daryl eyed him and wondered if he was small for his age, or small because Clem hasn't been taking care of him. He didn't want to ask outright. He didn't want to put more distance between them. He would wait and feel his way around the question before either Peter came clean, or he felt it was safe to ask without risk.
"Daryl?" a feminine voice came from behind them.
He turned and found Michonne standing with her son and a bag of toys behind them. He cleared his throat and stood up, leaving Peter to play a game on his phone, and he met her eyes.
"Hey, Michonne."
"Hey." She attempted a smile and glanced at the boy sitting on the bench. "Who is this?"
"Why do you care?"
"It was just a question." She adjusted the bag on her shoulder. "Does he like kids? Andre could always use another friend. While he is older, he's still a kid."
"I'd see, but we have a bed waiting to be delivered today, and it's gonna be hot, and he hasn't even settled in yet. Maybe later?"
"That's fine." She smiled. "It's good to see you out and about. Glad to see the house didn't eat you."
He smirked and nearly said something wildly inappropriate with a child present, and he simply nodded. "Yeah, good to see that didn't happen."
"Have a good day, Daryl." She walked by him with Andre, and the boy waved shyly at the taller man.
Daryl glanced over at Peter, to see him peeking over his phone at the woman and child, and Daryl realized he had nothing to entertain a child with. He had no games, no decent cable, nada. He would have to upgrade his systems, and that would take time. Time he didn't really have to spare. Ugh, he so fucking wished Peter was an outdoorsy kid like Merle and he were.
He could spend months entertaining the kid with outdoorsy shit. Hunting, tracking, gathering, discerning poisonous plants from eatable ones, swimming, shelter-finding and building. It would be a blast, and it'd take up hours and days and weeks, and it would cement the bond they used to have but built anew. He could really get to know the kid, but with how he had his nose buried in that damn cellphone, that wasn't likely.
Calling to his nephew, he headed to the car. Peter caught up to him, and they trashed the cheeseburger wrappers and Peter's shake trash. Daryl was handed his shake, and he thanked Peter. He simply shrugged and said it was no prob. Daryl wanted to muss up those waves, but he didn't. They headed home, and Carol and Aaron were waiting for them.
"Hey." Aaron waved to the pair, and Carol was about to greet Daryl when her eyes landed on the boy shuffling around the truck.
"Hey." Daryl was nearly tackled by Spike at the smell of meat on his breath, and he grunted as he was smacked against the truck by the full weight of his dog.
Peter giggled at the sight of it, and his eyes moved to the woman he didn't know. She wasn't a social worker, he could tell that much, but she wasn't anybody he'd ever seen before. He'd never been to this town before, but he knew his uncle had a lot of women in his life. Well, not a lot, but some, and she didn't fit the description of the women Mom told him to look out for while staying with Uncle Daryl. So, who was she?
"Carol, this is Peter Dixon," Aaron filled in the blanks as Daryl tried to wrestle his dog off him. "Peter, this is Carol."
Carol instantly recalled the stories of his nephew and naturally beamed at the young man before her. "Hello." She signed it as well, out of habit, and Peter removed his earbuds, having jammed out to his tunes the entire trip back.
He waved. "Hiya, Carol?"
"Yes."
He glanced from Daryl to Carol and then to Aaron, who he vaguely knew in passing, and he asked, quite tersely, "You're his woman then?"
Carol folded her arms over her chest, and Daryl wanted to sink down into the very earth. "I'm his girlfriend, if that's what you mean."
"Uncle Daryl doesn't have girlfriends," Peter corrected. "He has fuck buddies."
Daryl's eyes rounded to sauces at the F-word causally slipping out of his nephew's mouth, Carol frowned, and Aaron pursed his lips. They all exchanged looks, and Peter frowned this time at the looks they gave him. He demanded to know what.
"You don't use that kind of language," Daryl told him. "Under this roof, you don't use that kind of language."
"Why not? Dad said it all the time, I hear. So does Mom." He walked over to the door and opened it. "It's just a word." He went inside.
Daryl sighed and looked at Carol and Aaron for support. "What am I supposed to do with that?"
"I don't know. This is why I don't have kids yet." Aaron called to Spike and scratched his chin when he trotted over. "Carol?"
"I think he needs some discipline." She entered the house and found him sitting on the pullout, and she approached him. "Peter?"
"Hmm?" He barely glanced at her.
"I believe we need to—"
"—wash up and get ready for that bed," Daryl cut her off. "You oughta check out the rooms, see which one you like."
"Okay." He stood up and shuffled off, dragging his feet as he padded up the stairs somehow.
Daryl. Carol's frown made his heart hurt, and he definitely did not like how she was looking at him with heaping disappointment. That isn't what I was going to say, and you know that.
He's just a kid. He needs time to adjust, okay? It'll be a rough road, but I have to make sure he feels at home before I lay down the law.
If we wait until he feels at home, I will be insulted to the high heavens. I won't tolerate that. He's just a kid. You are the adult. His uncle.
His guardian, Daryl corrected, and Carol's brows knitted together in confusion. His mother apparently is unable to care for him for at least six months, and he's going to be in my care until then.
Oh, my gosh. What happened to her?
Does it matter?
Yes, it matters, Daryl. She could become unable to care for him for the rest of her life. You could become his permanent guardian. Have you not considered that? What exactly happened to her? Do you know?
No, only that she's in the hospital.
Well, which hospital? We should call and find out what happened, that way we can prepare for his future.
What do you mean, "we"?
Carol's frown deepened. Do you not want me involved? Because this affects me, too, you know. As your girlfriend, having him here and being so close to you as he undoubtedly is, I will have to get along with him. Hopefully it comes naturally, but if we don't come together as friends, it'll be awkward for us.
He sighed and shrugged a shoulder. I didn't think that far ahead. I mean, he's my nephew, and you're...my girl. I just don't know how those two come together yet.
Well, figure it out, please. Carol walked by him to get to the kitchen, but he caught her by the arm and turned to face her.
"I don't want you mad at me." He searched her eyes. "I just gotta lot on my plate."
"I know." She set a hand on his cheek. "And I'm still here. I'll be by you through this, until you don't want me there anymore."
"Don't hold your breath on that."
She smiled now, and she leaned up and kissed his lips softly. "Why don't we go out tomorrow? To the park. We can play games and get to know each other."
"I'd like that."
"Good. I'll let Aaron know."
They headed separate ways, Carol found Aaron and let him know of their plans, and he decided to join them for tomorrow. Daryl waited outside for the bed and frame to be delivered. It was a long wait, but by the time they arrived, Carol and Aaron had made up dinner for them, and Peter instructed which room to put the bed and frame in, and Daryl tipped them. Peter noted that and wondered just how much money difference there was between his mom and his uncle.
They sat down for dinner, Peter observed the people at the table, sharing cornbread with the dog, and Daryl and Aaron spoke of old—better/child appropriate—times, and Carol just read. It was lovely to learn the little secrets Daryl had yet to share with her that Aaron forced him to share. Embarrassing little anecdotes, pranks and slightly drunken stories. It was refreshing, and Carol couldn't help but laugh.
After dinner, Carol had prepared a dirt pie for Peter, who dug through the cookie crust and into the chocolate pudding, sucking down the gummy worm and just having a good time with his playful dessert. Daryl and Aaron went outside to give Spike a potty break, and Peter asked Carol what her deal was.
"What do you mean?" Carol lowered her cup of tea and walked over to the table.
"You're kinda cool," he admitted. "A better cook than my mom, but you're weird, too."
"Weird?" Carol smirked. "Weird how?"
"You watch the person speaking with this intense look, and it's kinda creepy." Peter wiped pudding off his cheek. "Like now."
"That's because I'm deaf, Peter."
He nodded. "Ooh, okay." He returned to eating his pudding. "That is good. I wish there was more."
"There's plenty." Carol set a hand on his head to smooth down his wavey locks. "Do you want another helping?"
"Yes, please." He beamed at her with cookie bits in his teeth.
"Okay." She laughed. "Help me with these dishes first."
"Okay." It was less happy than the second helping, but she'd take it.
They washed up the dishes, Carol served him a smaller helping of dessert, and he was good and tired by the time by the guys came back in. Carol showed Peter to the room he'd picked out while Aaron laid out on the pullout, and Daryl waited for her in his room.
"Both of them are out like lights." Carol closed the door behind her. "Peter seems lovely when he isn't dropping fucks left and right."
"Yeah, a bit...loose tongued, but yeah."
"Yes, we should talk about that "fuck buddies" comment." Carol approached him, and he groaned. "How many of those have you had?"
"Not that many," he assured her, setting his hands on her hips and pulling her closer. "I don't want to talk about it."
"What do you want to talk about?" She laced her fingers together at the back of the base of his neck. "Hmm?"
"I don't wanna do much talkin', to be honest."
"Now, that's enticing." She lifted herself up onto his lap, and she sat back on his thighs, and she chuckled as she did so, sealing his mouth with her own.
He slid his hands down and around to grasp her ass through her shorts, and he could feel her panties through the material of those shorts. They were lace and thin, and he wanted nothing more than to remove both items and never let her wear anything ever again while they were alone together. God, he could only imagine what rested underneath her layers.
Carol released her fingers and weaved them through his hairs, and she could feel a stirring inside of her as his hands explored her lower regions, and she moaned against his lips as his kisses began more and more fervent. She hadn't been kissed like this in a long while, and having these kisses come from him made her all the more aroused.
Carol broke the kiss to make a request when a knock on the door caught Daryl's attention. He all but tossed Carol aside when the door opened and in came Peter. Daryl cleared his throat and adjusted how he sat, and Peter asked for a bedtime story.
"A... bedtime story?" Daryl panicked. He didn't know any stories that were child appropriate. "Umm..."
"Carol?" Peter asked. "Could you tell me a story?"
"Oh." Carol tucked hair behind her ear. "Sure."
Daryl exhaled with relief and thanked her, and they headed out of the room. Daryl waited about ten minutes before he readied himself for Carol's return. When another few minutes passed, he got curious and headed down the hall to find Carol and Peter fast sleep. He smiled instantly and knew this was a good sign. If his past could coexist with his present, then maybe he could truly... Hmm. Maybe.
