I'm still continuing to peddle to keep this ship afloat :'(
Anyway, enjoy the soul-crushing angst!
He found her out on the porch, staring out at the lake somewhat wistfully as the cool December wind rushed through her hair; she was swamped in one of his hoodies, looking worryingly thin and small despite how tall he knew her to be. Walter hesitated as he approached her, wary of saying anything that might upset her further – the last thing he wanted was to be the cause of more pain.
"Are you feeling alright, Danny?" He asked quietly, stopping a few metres away – not too close, just in case she wanted space.
She shrugged, briefly glancing up at him before shifting on the seat. "Sit with me?"
"Of course."
As he settled next to Daniels, still cautious of being too close, she sighed and continued to stare out at the lake; it was beginning to freeze over now, though not quite frozen enough for activities such as skating (though he highly doubted she would feel well enough to skate this winter). Their surroundings were peaceful, with not a single noise to be heard other than the wind and the occasional bird as it prepared to fly south.
"I've been thinking," She mumbled, eyes fixed on the sun as it set. "Since…since it happened, I've been blaming myself, thinking I could have done something to stop it or…" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "But I was thinking about what you said, and you're right – I don't think I could have done anything."
Walter laid a hand over hers but said nothing, eyes focused on her; she could only lean into him slightly closer, out of the need for body warmth and for comfort.
"It would have been impossible for me to do anything," Daniels continued ruefully. "Just like how it probably would have been impossible for me to do anything when the other crew members died back on the Covenant…I couldn't do anything to save Jake."
"Your husband's death was due to a random localized event," He reminded her. "And his pod malfunctioned before the other crew could get him out – so, no, there was nothing you could have done, Danny. I'm sorry."
"I know," She agreed sadly. "I know there was nothing I could have done to save Jake…and there was nothing I could have done for the baby either. It wasn't my fault."
Her statement hung in the air for a few moments between them, and then she exhaled deeply as her shoulders slumped – it was like a heavy weight being lifted, some deep revelation that somehow helped to ease the pain. Walter slipped an arm around her, holding her close as he gave a small nod in agreement. "It wasn't your fault, Daniels, I assure you; as I have told you before, there are multiple reasons that it could have happened – all of which were out of anyone else's control, including yours."
"It was out of your control too," Daniels affirmed, rather firmly; when he gave her a surprised look, she frowned sadly. "I know you, Walter – I know you're probably going over it in your head, thinking you could have done something differently, something that could have stopped it from happening, but…we did the best we could."
Of course she knew him so well; they had lived together for many years, shared so many intimate things, and it was only to be expected that she knew what his thoughts or feelings on this matter might be. "You're right, Danny," He admitted slowly. "I don't think I could have done anything to change the outcome of what happened, even though I have been feeling as though I could have. It is pointless to continue to think this way."
"Yeah," She sighed, and suddenly her weight was sagging against him once more. "Yeah, it is."
They didn't speak any more, both of them staring out at the lake instead; somehow, even without saying anything more, it seemed as though they were united – maybe, just maybe, they could get through this together.
Christmas rolled around, as it always did: truthfully, Daniels didn't feel much like celebrating at all. Even if she was gradually healing and allowing herself time to recover, it seemed inappropriate to celebrate given that such a terrible thing had happened a month before; Walter had insisted, though not pushed her, and reasoned that it might be better if they quietly spent the holiday together – allowing themselves a time to rest and be somewhat distracted.
He didn't wake her on Christmas morning, instead waiting for her to wake in her own time – she needed to sleep, given how many nights she had stayed awake crying or hurting. It was shortly after ten when she groggily roused herself, muttering a greeting to him and curling in on herself even more.
"Can't I just stay in bed?" She murmured, not looking at him. "I don't want…I know you made gifts," She said, somewhat guiltily, "and I appreciate it, but I don't think it'll help."
"Nothing I've made will exactly heal your pain, Danny," Walter said softly. "But it's tradition and I felt that it might at least take your mind off of things. I can't force you. We can get up whenever you're ready."
As much as she would have preferred to stay in bed, she knew from experience that it was better to get back into the swing of things – lying around feeling sorry for herself would do nothing to help. With that in mind, Daniels sighed and rolled out of bed, rubbing her eyes. "Fine. I'll get dressed and we can…do whatever."
When they went downstairs, he made her some coffee before sitting beside her on the couch; she had lost some weight, he noticed, as she looked thinner than usual – admittedly his hoodies were large on her anyway, and she was extremely fit and slim anyway, but it was more noticeable now. She said nothing as she took her coffee, looking down at the drink and remaining silent.
"I made you a few presents," Walter informed her after a few minutes. "You don't have to open them, it's understandable if you don't feel up to it-"
"I'll open them," Daniels interrupted quietly, putting her coffee down and moving to sit on the floor beside the nearest wrapped gift. "I'm sorry I didn't get you a lot…I know you deserve more than two or three gifts, but I just…"
"I don't mind, Daniels," He said sincerely. "I am grateful for any gift, and to be spending Christmas with you. That's all."
She passed him a few wrapped parcels (mostly books with a new jumper, he later learnt) before picking up one of the ones from him; for ten minutes, she didn't speak beyond thanking him for the things he had made. He knew she was grateful for the gifts, of course, but grief had made her more lethargic and less enthusiastic; he didn't judge her for it, for it was only to be expected.
Daniels had finished unwrapping the last gifts and was getting ready to stand when her lover cleared his throat and moved to sit next to her; she shot him a questioning look, confused, but he merely smiled uncomfortably. "I have one more gift, Danny; it's small, and I did not want it to get lost underneath the tree because it is – in my opinion – more special than the others. I hope you'll agree when you see it."
Walter pulled a small box from his hoodie pocket and held it out to her; as she took it, she couldn't help but think that it looked like a ring box. "Walter…"
"Open it, Daniels," He said quietly. "And then I'll explain."
Still perplexed, she slowly opened the box; inside was a ring, rather simple in design and made of twining pieces of silver. Simple but beautiful – he knew she didn't like flashy jewellery, knew her so well. "Oh…Oh, Walter-"
"It's not an engagement ring," He informed her, somewhat regretfully. "As you're aware, it is illegal for synthetic beings to marry – that's a right reserved for humans, and so it would be pointless for me to even ask. But I did research, and I found that some humans prefer the usage of 'promise' rings – they're a thing of the past on Earth, and now very uncommon."
"You made me a promise ring?" Daniels asked, voice no louder than a whisper.
Walter nodded, and he looked vaguely anxious. "Yes. I cannot ask you to marry me, Danny, and I am sorry for that because I know usually humans prefer to be married before attempting to start families." He paused, studying her to be sure she wasn't upset by him bringing it up – she didn't appear to be, so he continued. "I cannot ask you to marry me – but I can give you this ring and promise the same things that a human can during a wedding ceremony, even if it's not legal. I am incapable of lying, so my promise would be truthful."
"Promise?" She repeated quietly.
"I can promise you that I love you and always will," He told her, and he took the hand that wasn't holding the ring box. "I can promise that I'll be loyal, that I don't want anyone else, that I'll be here for you no matter what, and I can promise that I'll never leave you." His fingers linked with hers, and he looked somewhat nervous. "I am aware that I cannot take the place of your husband, and I wouldn't want to – but I do want to be with you for as long as is possible. You…You do not have to accept it, not if you don't want to."
For a moment, Daniels didn't say anything – and then he noticed that tears were running down her cheeks, eyes glistening. "Walter…shit, you made me cry," She muttered, giving a weak laugh.
"I didn't intend to upset you or make you cry," He said, concerned. "I apologize."
"No, I'm not crying because I'm sad," She chuckled wetly. "I'm crying because this…this is so beautiful, and you've made me happy; this is the best gift I've ever received."
He watched as she took the ring from the box and slipped it onto her finger to sit beside her wedding ring; once this was done, she leaned forwards to pull him into an embrace that he returned without question. Her tears started to soak through his clothes, but he couldn't bring himself to mind at all.
"If this was a proposal," The synthetic muttered curiously. "Would that have been a 'yes'?"
Daniels laughed again, properly this time, and pulled back to look at him. "Yes – yes, it would have been a 'fuck yes'!" She took his face into his hands and pressed a small kiss to his mouth, still crying somewhat when they separated. "Thank you, Walter… I love you so much."
Walter could only smile back, pleased that she seemed happier and that she had accepted his gift. "I love you too, Daniels. I hope that next Christmas, we get what we both want – that we won't be celebrating alone…that we'll have a baby by next year."
It was almost too easy to imagine; the image was somewhat painful but promising, the idea of a small baby with them next year – a year seemed so far off, and yet also within reach. It didn't need to be said that it was something they both wanted.
"I hope so too," She agreed, burying her face into his shoulder and closing her eyes. "I want that more than anything."
New Year's was a slightly less sombre affair, mostly due to the fact that Tennessee joined them; it was tradition for them to welcome the new year together, though usually they went out to the colony to celebrate with everyone else. Truthfully, none of them felt like that this year – like facing anyone else just yet – and so Tennessee had immediately accepted when they invited him to the cabin for the night.
"You look great, darlin'," He muttered to Daniels, giving her a large hug that she gratefully returned. "More like yourself, healthier…"
"You're full of bullshit," She huffed, but she managed a half-hearted grin. "Thanks, Tee. It's good to see you."
It was hardly an exciting evening – far from it – but none of them seemed to care; the topic of what had happened a month ago was completely ignored, as was any discussion of children of any kind. It didn't escape Walter's notice that neither Daniels nor Tennessee were drinking nearly as much as they usually did on New Year's Eve; it was understandable, he decided, and a part of him was admittedly relieved because excessive alcohol consumption would almost-certainly prove detrimental to Daniels' physical and mental health. To add, he knew that both of them were adequate at – as the humans often said – "holding their alcohol", but it was admittedly a relief to not have to worry over their intoxication levels.
They quietly toasted as midnight came and went, and when they heard fireworks from the colony in the distance, they stepped outside to watch from the porch. Tennessee seemed to liven up slightly at the sight of them, chuckling and making comments to his friends; he finished his beer halfway through the display, and as he headed into the cabin to grab a new one, Daniels silently slipped her hand into Walter's, squeezing their fingers together. When he looked at her, slightly confused, she just smiled half-heartedly.
"New Year," She muttered, so quietly that their friend wouldn't be able to hear it – Walter's superior hearing picked it up easily. "We can put it all behind us, start new and all that. Start afresh."
"Yes," He agreed, still not sure what she really meant.
Her smile was bittersweet – but there was hope in her eyes, he realized, a glimmer of something. "I…I want us to try for that baby again," Daniels admitted. "Not right away, obviously, I don't think I feel…okay with that. But I do want to, so long as you're okay with that."
"Ah. I see." Walter considered what she had said, though he knew the answer immediately. "I would like that too, Danny – but, as you say, not at this time. Perhaps in a few months, however, when you have had time to recover and you-" He paused, reconsidering his words. "We have processed and accepted our loss, then yes, I would like for us to attempt it once more."
Her hand tightened around his own, and he could feel her warm body suddenly leaning into him. "Yeah," She murmured; her smile seemed slightly more genuine now, if a little strained. "I got a good feeling about this year, Walter – that it'll happen."
While the future was unpredictable, and she certainly couldn't have been able to tell at this moment what was to come, he understood the sentiment and held her close. "I believe you might be right, Danny," He informed her quietly, just as Tennessee reappeared from inside the cabin once more. "At the very least…I am hoping that you're right."
There were no guarantees that things would take a turn for the better – that they would perhaps be parents within this new year – but Walter allowed himself to hope for it anyway. It went against his programming, wanting and wishing for things, but he couldn't help it; he knew it was selfish to want it for his own happiness (which, he had decided, was not a priority), but the idea of himself and his lover as a family – with a child, their child no matter what anyone else said on the matter – made something in him stir pleasantly.
To add, it would make Daniels immeasurably happy – and, to him, that was the most important thing of all.
So, the Christmas section was actually something I posted in my Christmas on Origae-6 drabbles last December – hopefully it now makes a little more sense as to why they were so upset!
I know it's a little short and sucky, but I'm heading off to Disneyland Paris from Sunday to Thursday, so I'll be out of action, and I really just wanted to get something up before I left.
Next chapter will probably include a short time skip, and it won't be as angsty, I promise – things are about to get a lot fluffier and cuter for our favourite duo :3