Disclaimer: TWD isn't mine.

What They Deserve

The storm continued through the night. Around midnight, Daryl got up from his mattress and went to the table. The periodic lightning lit up the paths of rain drops on the glass and then the thunder rattled the panes seconds later. He'd witnessed countless other nights like this one, except this time his sleeplessness didn't come about because of worry, grief, or pensiveness.

He was elated.

Carol had come back with the good news that Laura had nothing to say about Daryl's lie. It was unclear if Jonathan had told her and she just didn't care, or if he just hadn't discussed it at all. Daryl figured that was the best case scenario, even if he felt foolish for panicking like he did.

He poked at the ash tray and winced when he scattered some of its contents. For a moment, he squinted at the clouds and wind, trying to read the direction of the storm. Judging it safe enough, he cracked open a window and lit a cigarette.

They were precious these days, so he breathed deep and savored it. Today was worthy of the indulgence anyway. He glanced at Carol and Sophia's room. There it was again, the way his chest tightened out of the blue. He snorted lightly at himself as he recalled the events of last evening.

His smile curled around the cigarette.

The storm shifted to just rain, steady and reassuring. As it quieted, so did his high, and the reality of the situation trickled into his thoughts.

Truly, their situation was as fragile as a paper lantern. They'd risen high and fast; one wrong move and it could burn up faster than a gasoline fire. Not long ago he was finding sluggish peace in the bottom of whiskey bottles. For someone whose life once consisted of nothing more than whatever his brother planned for that day, finding himself here, with a wife and kid in less than three months was staggering. Perhaps his most likely downfall was his inexperience. That didn't evaporate just because he decided he had feelings for them.

Daryl abandoned his cigarette and leaned against the window frame. He sucked in the damp air and resolved, "Don't wanna fuck it up."

He had a lot of work to do.

Daryl eventually fell asleep once the storm had run the worst of itself past the roundhouse. He woke up to a gray sky with a thin streak of light highlighting the horizon. If he was any judge, it would be sunny come noon. It wasn't long before Carol joined him. She stretched her arms over her bed-ruffled head like a cat.

"Good morning," she said.

"Mornin'." If he had any lingering doubts about yesterday and where they stood, she silenced them with a kiss. Reassuring, even if they both bobbed their heads tentatively to start. It left him reinvigorated despite his truncated sleep.

Good thing too, because the unfinished saga with Jonathan promised to make today challenging.

"What are you doing today?" Carol asked after she had finger combed her hair.

"No plans yet." Daryl tapped a finger against the table top. He had to find Kenny today and basically beg for daily runs without actually begging or giving anything away. Before bringing it up, Daryl listened for movement from next door. Hearing nothing he said, "What are we going to tell Jonathan?"

"I've been thinking about that," Carol said as she slipped on her shoes. "He accused you of lying, so a correction is in order. What if we just say I'm the one who was mistaken and you were just trying to cover for me?"

It was simple the way she explained it. She had gotten her trips confused because they were taken very close to one another. The Erie trip was her and Sophia only. Myrtle Beach was the family vacation. Silly her, mixing her memories together, but darn it, if all those beach towns didn't look the same to her.

Daryl swallowed. "You sure you wanna throw yerself under the bus?"

"Yes. It has to be me. You were just trying to be a kind husband and go along with whatever I had said." Carol shrugged, clearly unafraid of Jonathan's suspicions.

Daryl resigned with a nod, even if the thought of making her lie to Jonathan and Laura didn't sit right with him. He was the troublesome one and he'd liked to keep any ill thoughts away from her.

"Best thing ta do then is ta not fuck this up and support her."

He crossed his arms and grimaced at the reoccurring thought. Maybe if he said it enough, it would keep him from failing back into bad Dixon habits. Angry outbursts, colorful cussing, and wild punches helped him survive before, but he couldn't rely on instant response anymore.

"Tell me about this Myrtle Beach trip then," he said softly.

"Of course."

In case anyone could overhear them, Carol framed her sentences as if they were reminiscing. It was the end of the world, after all. It made sense for families to try and remember the good times.

"Remember our first night there? It was so hot and the AC in our hotel was broken!"

"We didn't get a crab leg bucket that time because Sophia felt bad for the animals. And well, the price had gone up."

By the time Sophia woke up, Daryl knew the name of their favorite restaurant in Myrtle Beach (Joe's Crab Shack), the time mini golfing when Sophia slipped into an aqua pool of water retrieving her ball, and even the souvenirs they brought back (starfish key chains and mermaid beach towels). He repeated them several times until they felt natural.

Sophia had woken up during Carol's explanation. The girl slumped into the empty chair across from Daryl, blinking in the new day's light. After listening to the adults piece together the tale, Sophia looked at Daryl and said, "My favorite memory was when he tossed me in the waves."

"Sophia," Carol said in a hushed voice. "Did that happen?"

Sophia stuffed her hands under her thighs and said timidly, "No, but, I saw other kids and their dads doing it... We're pretending now, right?"

Daryl's heart crushed underneath the longing in Sophia's voice.

Carol swept her daughter up in a hug. "Thank you for helping, but we are trying to stick to the truth. It's easier that way."

The girl bit her lip and wiggled in her seat. "Were you guys just pretending last night?"

Now holding her daughter at arm's length, Carol asked, "What do you mean?"

"On the balcony," the girl clarified, her gaze darting from her mother to Daryl.

A blush rushed across the back of his neck and tips of his ears. So, the girl had caught them kissing after all. Even though mother and child were speaking to each other, Daryl felt like he was the one under a microscope and every flaw had been laid bare. In a sad attempt to remove himself from the situation, he pressed himself against the back of the chair.

He and Carol exchanged a quick glance. Finding something there, the surprise in her eyes softened. Then, Carol cleared her throat. "You know our secret? How we told everyone we were a family to keep safe, to stay together?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's still the same. It's just now, Daryl and I decided we like each other too. Okay?"

"Okay." Thoughts furrowed Sophia's brow as she digested the new information.

Satisfied, Carol stood up and declared, "Sophia, please go get us some granola bars."

"But!"

"No buts. We will meet you at the front door before you go to class."

In the following scramble to get shoes on her daughter's feet and reminding Sophia to take her backpack, Daryl crossed his arms and just tried to stay out of the way. Just like he had stayed out of the way teaching Sophia how to use a knife. Daryl chewed at his cheek; he'd done little to foster a relationship with his fake daughter and she still thought about making pleasant memories with him.

It spoke more of Ed's shitty parenting than his own skill but determination set his mouth in a firm line. He had to do better when it came to the girl.

Hell, he had to do better all the way around.

After Sophia left to gather breakfast, Carol finished her own morning preparations. "She's perceptive," Carol said with a smirk.

"Yeah...We should talk," Daryl said, eyeing her carefully. "About us."

Carol grabbed her knife. "I suppose we should. Do you want to walk the fence? I know there aren't many dead out there anymore, but we would be alone."

"Yeah, I'd like that."

In addition to softening the ground, the storm brought a cold front with it. It was chilly even for this early in the day, but it felt good for their brisk escape from the roundhouse to the fence. Daryl kept feeling for his crossbow and bag. It had been so long since he'd walked to the fence without the intention of leaving that he felt naked without his run supplies.

"It's been awhile," he said.

Earthworms crawled across their path, still trying to escape the saturated ground. Carol stepped around a particularly fat one as she agreed, "It has."

As they had done before, they waved to Neal in the guard tower and curved to the right along the fence. It was a silent journey as Daryl struggled to decide how to start their discussion and Carol appeared satisfied to just listen to the wind. At the first moan behind the fence, Daryl instantly found a gap in the metal sheets and struck the corpse down. The physical violence came so easy to him. The softer parts of life, not so much.

Daryl bit the inside of his cheek as he struggled to find the right words.

The same uncertainty from yesterday tripped him up now, kept him silent when he needed to speak. But he continually found that Carol burned a desire in him to override his shortcomings. Because she deserved his best.

In the end, he was blatantly honest. Daryl waved a hand between them. "I ain't ever done this before."

Admitting it stung, like it proved there was something wrong with him. Maybe there was. It wouldn't be the first time in his life that his shortcomings were on full display. Daryl rushed the fence again, peeled back a metal sheet, and stabbed another unsuspecting corpse to the ground. He kept his back to her, breath held, waiting for her judgment.

Carol caught up with him and wove her fingers between his. With a little tug, Carol said, "It's okay. It's been a long time since I've dated anyone too."

Daryl dipped his head. "Carol, yer gonna hafta-"

"What? Talk to you? Call you out when you're being a jerk?" Her pretty smile softened the scold. "I've been doing that all along. This really isn't that different."

She was so good like that, meeting him where he was and using that as a starting point. It had been that way since the very beginning. She did it on the boxcar, offering him privacy and medicine even when he had been a boar. Again, when he couldn't bring himself to eat in a crowded dining hall.

Sheepish, Daryl brushed his thumb over her hand in thanks.

"That said, we do have to start somewhere," Carol continued as she pulled them down the fence line. A seriousness flattened her expression. "What high school did you go to?"

Daryl snorted. "Northern Georgia Regional."

Carol's eyebrows shot up. "Pfft. Lame. I was a Franklin Knight." She raised her arm as if to swing a sword.

"Pfft. You're lame."

Carol pushed him with a chuckle.

This manner of ask and answer carried them along the fence and back again. Movies, television shows, favorite foods, and first car model. What they did in high school and what came after. One could argue it was ridiculous for them to cover these minor details after everything they had gone through. Did it really matter that Daryl had a sweet tooth for Sour Patch Kids after he killed her husband and took Ed's place? At the same time, even with his inexperience, Daryl felt like this trivial exchange was a rite of passage.

And, as they followed the worn path along the fence, he found he actually enjoyed it. He liked listening to the sound of her voice free of worry. It was like honey, sweeter than any candy. After a long exchange about movies, Daryl pulled her to him. The tilt of his head asked the question and Carol answered. She cupped his cheeks and kissed him.

"I can't believe you've never seen Ghost," Carol breathlessly lamented.

Foreheads touching, Daryl rolled his eyes at her. "Why would I watch Ghost?"

"It's a classic!"

"It's a chick flick!"

It was her turn to roll her eyes and she giggled. Parting, Carol pushed past him and with an expert strike, killed the last walking corpse that had crept up on them.

He never would have thought there was space in this world for softness. You either constructed a strong shell around yourself, or you'd perish. Much like before in those back alley dealings with Merle. But Carol's graceful strength displayed with the knife strike went a long way to changing his mind.

She was doing that a lot lately.

Daryl scrutinized the position of the sun. Reluctantly, he said, "We should probably head back."

"I suppose so." Carol sheathed her knife. They fell into step with one another as they cut across the yard.

"I should probably be asking Kenny for a job," Daryl said.

"Yes, that's right. Anything that will keep you away from the wall crew. I'm sure I'll see Jonathan at breakfast. I'll take care of our cover up then."

They parted at the front door, Carol to the eating area, Daryl to the back rooms where Kenny lingered these days. He paused briefly to watch her weave through the crowd, his heart swelling. Eventually, not wanting to look like a dolt, Daryl pulled himself way and ducked down the always dark hallway. He found Kenny in the map room, rolling up large papers.

"Got anything for me ta do today?"

Kenny leaned over his current map with a deep, thinking frown. "Sure yeah. Rodney's gonna be moving cars around the yard. He could use a hand."

Daryl nodded. "And the rest of the week?"

"Hunting I think. Best use of your skills." Kenny added the map to a pile, looking thoughtful. "Not that the wall ain't important but, bah. Next time you need a break, just let me know. I don' mind giving you a day off every now and then."

Daryl's stomach knotted.

"Jonathan lied. He didn't ask Kenny."

He swallowed. "Sure thing, sorry 'bout that."

Kenny flicked his fingers through a few maps and just shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

The older man's ease was the only thing that slowed Daryl's rising annoyance. What the hell was Jonathan playing at? Daryl shook the thoughts away. "When's Rodney gonna start?"

Kenny leaned back to look out a window. "Should be out there now."

"I'll get to it then."

"You have my thanks."

Instead of walking out the front door, Daryl ducked out the nearest exit and took the long way around the building in the sun. Anything to avoid Jonathan and give him extra time to think. It wasn't a big deal, Kenny said so himself. So, why did Jonathan bother lying?

"Power play," he concluded and chewed at a cuticle. "He likes feeling like he's in charge."

Fully risen, the sun blanketed the yard in a sweltering heat. Daryl wiped his brow as he rounded the front corner of the building. Rodney had the secondary train out in the yard and two cars to push toward the roundhouse for unloading. Heat came off the impressive vehicle in waves. Rodney poked his head out the window once Daryl was close enough.

"Just make sure everyone stays away while I move things around!"

Daryl raised a hand in acknowledgement. For the next hour, he watched the yard for roaming kids and adults. It was an easy job; they'd been living here long enough that people knew to stay away. The only thing he had to do was kick open a track switch that got stuck. Daryl was grateful for the nearly mindless task; it gave him plenty of time to mull over Jonathan.

Should he call him out?

Should he confront him?

Should he just let it go?

Daryl's fists curled when he imagined putting Jonathan on his backside. "Just once. Show him I ain't takin' his bullshit."

By the time Rodney finished moving the cars and Sam and Rod started unloading, his mood had soured. Damn Jonathan for his trouble. Darkly, Daryl thought, "Not like I can get rid of him like I did Ed."

Movement at the far end of the yard interrupted his fantasy. Sophia, Jules's kid-Ryan-, and another girl came out of the classroom caboose and sat on a nearby concrete pad. Daryl watched their progress. Rodney had just gotten the first car on the turntable and was now backing up the train. With their heads in their hands, the three kids watched the train switching tracks and pulling and pushing boxcars around the yard.

Daryl approached the trio. "How was class?"

"Boring and now we're still bored," Sophia whined. Ryan and the younger girl echoed Sophia.

"Bored?" He spent most of his time outside the house as a kid. It was safer, quieter. The woods were a wonderland compared to the tiny patch of grass outside his parents home. Daryl glanced around the yard; there was nothing but gravel, railroad ties, and metal.

As Sophia looked up, an idea came to him. Daryl eyed the train and then patted his pockets. "I know I got some in here somewhere."

That piqued Sophia's interest. "What do you have?"

The kids circled around him, eyes wide and hopeful. Daryl made a mental note to bring back toys on his next run. Balls and bats, kites maybe. Even he knew that kids shouldn't be so hungry for entertainment that they waited with clasped hands for a second's distraction from a gruff asshole.

"Pennies." Daryl held one between his pointer and thumb. The copper shined.

Sophia frowned. "What can we do with those?"

Daryl turned the coin over in his palm. "Spin 'em, throw 'em I guess. But you're watching trains, right? How about this? Wait here." He got Rodney's attention in the engineer's seat, who acknowledged his approach. After confirming his safety, Daryl lined the closest track with three pennies, one for each kid. Daryl walked back to the curious trio and directed, "Watch."

Rodney gave two short horn blasts and then drove the silver engine over the pennies.

"Let's go make sure they didn't fall off," Daryl said. The kids took off in front of him. "Hey! Gotta wait for the train to move."

Scolded, their sprints slowed to walks. To his surprise, Sophia held out her hand to him as he caught up. Daryl took it with a tentative grin. Together they walked to retrieve the pennies. Rodney waved out the window and the train chugged to the far end of the yard. Once Daryl was certain that he wouldn't be moving it anymore, he gave the kids the go ahead. Only then did Sophia let go and race to the track.

Ryan got to the pennies first and swiped up one. "Look at it! Mine's the shiniest."

"Now way, mine is," Sophia said. They pushed their pennies together to compare. No conclusion was reached. "What about you, Mary?"

The girl's pigtails bobbed as she jutted out her hand. Only half of her coin was pressed flat. "Mine's a little squished."

Sophia turned to Daryl and asked, "Dar-Dad, do you have more pennies?"

The title caught him off guard. The two of them, fake father and fake daughter, snapped their gazes together in a surprised panic. They both blushed. After five rapid heartbeats, the awkward moment passed as Ryan and Mary thrust their hands up at Daryl.

"Yeah! More pennies!"

"More pennies!"

Daryl cleared his throat. "Yeah, yeah. I got more, but I ain't just givin' them to ya."

Their outstretched hands drooped.

"Pretty please?" Recovered, Sophia plead in unison with Mary.

Standing strong, Daryl shook his head. "Rodney's done movin' the train today. Maybe next time."

But they were already distracted again by their treasures. Ryan flipped the small gift over in his palm and Mary ran as fast as she could to show her mother hers. He nearly yelled after her, but, he hadn't lied, Rodney was done moving the train; the biggest threat to the kid now was tripping.

"Let's head back then, huh, kiddo?" Daryl glanced down at Sophia, who nodded. Head dipped, she looped her hand into his again. The small action unleashed an overwhelming warmth in his chest.

Half way across the yard, Daryl saw Jonathan walk out of the roundhouse. The man fiddled with one of the doors. Even at this distance, when Jonathan raised his head, Daryl felt the man's attention bore into him. Daryl snarled. Maybe his reaction was stoked by already feeling protective of the girl. Maybe, the initial high after kissing Carol had finally tapered off, taking his mellow mood with it. Most likely, it was his old, engrained instincts kicking in. Whatever it was, the annoyance from before resurfaced and quickly boiled to anger.

Daryl cursed under his breath.

One punch. That's all it would take. That would teach Jonathan a lesson. Daryl Dixon wasn't some pawn for the other man to manipulate.

The rage nearly won out. He corrected their direction and stomped toward Jonathan. One punch to the man's smug jaw. Just draw a little blood and curse him out. But when Daryl's hands tried to curl into fists, one curled around Sophia's fingers. The obstacle stopped him in his tracks.

In a timely manner, Sophia picked that moment to speak. "Could you...sharpen my knife? Mama said it's dull."

"S-sure." He glanced back at the roundhouse, but Jonathan was gone. Daryl sighed, and then cursed himself again for even considering such a rash action. He may not have parsed together the best response to Jonathan, but punching the egomaniac wasn't the right choice. Besides, he needed to wait and see how Carol's cover up story was received.

Plus, now he had to figure out why the kid thought she needed a sharp weapon.

He led Sophia to the back corner of the roundhouse to an old bench. She handed over her knife eagerly and then sat and watched him flick his nail against the edge of the blade. It was dull, as was appropriate for a young girl barely old enough to hold it.

"You sure yer Ma wanted it sharpened?"

"It's supposed to be sharp, right?" She shrugged unevenly; it gave away her fib.

Daryl conceded, bobbing his head. "No doubt. It's a weapon, after all." He pushed the knife closed, pressed the release, and opened it again. "You gonna start walkin' the fence with yer Ma?"

She shook her head.

"Then what do ya need a sharp knife for?"

Sophia squared her jaw. "Mr. Jonathan said this place is safe but then you and Mama said we needed to be prepared. So, I want to be prepared."

Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat. Determination blazed within him; no kid should be concerned with fighting off the dead. "You leave that ta me."

"But-"

"Nah. Yer Ma will protect ya if need be and I'll protect both of you." He handed the dull knife back to her.

She put the knife back in her sheath, now quiet. Together, they sat for a moment and took in the deep orange horizon. Sophia swung her legs and it reminded him of just how young she was and how small.

Suddenly, Sophia said, "I'm glad you killed my Dad."

Daryl sucked in so fast his lungs burned. On his exhale he rasped, "Aw, kid. I wish I didn't have to."

It was like a stab to his chest. This four foot nothing child speaking with such conviction about her father's demise. He had just seen her delighted by pennies on a train track. She shouldn't have to feel happy about replacing her monster of a father with an asshole redneck.

And yet, she was.

"He was bad," Sophia whispered the simple justification as she tipped over to lean against Daryl's arm.

Overcome with emotion, he promptly tucked Sophia against his side. "I know. I wish he hadn't been, but, yeah, I'm glad he's gone too."

Fuck Ed.

And fuck Jonathan.

He'd never consider himself the hero. That much hadn't changed. But with Sophia at his side and her mother's affection waiting for both of them, Daryl thought he could firmly believe he was a better man than them.

"Good thing too," he mused, glancing down at Sophia again. He couldn't give her and her mother the world. But he would scrap and fight for any good thing they wanted. They deserved it.

Author's Note: I obviously made up those school names.

Like, this chapter was hovering at 2,000 words for the longest time and now it's doubled. Why do I do this?

Thanks for reading!-randomcat23