The years after that sped by, and before long they'd been dating for almost 4 years.

The wooden floor of the small cabin they now called home creaked more than Alma would like, especially when your long-term boyfriend was a hunter who insisted on leaving at the crack of dawn.

"Could you please walk quieter Dar-Bear?" she mumbled into her pillow pulling the comforter closer to her face. She heard Daryl scoff at the nickname, which he had adamantly denied liking, though Alma was almost 97% sure that as long as she was the only one saying it he really didn't care all that much.

"Can't ya jus' sleep heavier?" he threw back sarcastically.

Alma made a noise into her pillow and rolled over to Daryls side of the bed. Even if you didn't really know the pair you could easily tell who slept on which side. The table on the right hand side held a buck-knife, a lamp, two books (one about wildlife and the other a novel about faith and karma or something like that) and of course a picture frame with a photo of Daryl and Alma at Julians wedding. He always thought that red complimented her well and the long sundress she had worn did just that. Daryl had borrowed a white dress-shirt that was slightly too big for him and he had second-hand bought a light colored tie that Alma insisted she could dye red. His pants and boots where the same once he used for casual days when he wasn't hunting but the DiAngelos had maintained that he looked 'handsome' anyways.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Alma yawned out, looking up at him with lazy eyes. If he hadn't promised P.J that he wouldn't bail on him for the fifth time in a row he might have jumped back into bed to say a proper goodbye, but their goodbyes never really were goodbyes. And those same goodbyes were usually the reason he bailed on his friends.

Her side-table were an explosion of different things and paraphernalia that combined showed her entire personality. A colorful dreamcatcher hung above the small 'boho-lamp' as she called it. On the table were also two empty teacups, and one that still had some cinnamon flavored coco in it. Books were piled high, everything from Peter Pan to Anne Frank to Science and Self-Care. Her android phone was placed on the floor below the table so it 'wouldn't take up so much space'. Jewelry was also one of those things that she seemed to have everywhere. Necklaces and bracelets and rings and anklets. Everywhere.

"Jules' wedding" he answered. His eyes reached the collage she had but up above their bed. Pictures of them, of her family, of his friends, of her friends, of Baxter and she even insisted on having one of Merle.

"That was a good day wasn't it?" she said, her eyes closing again as she stretched. "Are you bringing Baxter on the trip with…. who's even going?" She questioned finally awake enough to hold a proper conversation.

"Yeah, I'm bringing him. An' I think it's jus' P.J, Clyde an' Luke. You inviting Koi and Celti to stay while I'm gone right?" Daryl explained, throwing the last part in to sooth his own worries. He didn't like leaving her boyfriend-less and dog-less. Especially since they lived in his part of town. She had given up living all fancy with her family-money. Exchanged it for a mediocre life with him. She always said that no matter how mediocre he thought it was that it would always be her little piece of heaven as long as she had him. Daryl usually don't respond.

"Mhmm" Alma mumbled pushing her lips to his.

And this is how their mornings usually went, because when Daryl wasn't out hunting, he worked construction. And if construction was slow he would do odd jobs as a handyman. Everything he could to pull in some money. In his eyes Alma deserved it all for putting up with him.

Alma worked as a teacher at a nearby school. Some parents had been wary about letting a former 'rich-bitch' take care of their children but in due time everyone loved her. Because of her the kids probably got a better start at life than they would have with the last teachers.

On one summer day Daryl had finally realized that if he didn't take his shot he might lose her. Alma had said that the thought was ridiculous but he couldn't help it, insecurity wasn't new to him. So when they finally reached their five year mark he brought her to Zoo Atlanta again. For the entirety of the day he had been jittery, jumping more than normal at noises that he had learned to be fine with, like speeding cars and children crying. He even jumped when a pigeon flew by.

Alma had an announcement of her own, but she knew he would be scared. And if there was one thing that Alma had tried to do for the duration of their relationship, then it was to protect Daryl. No one else ever did, and she knew that he appreciated that she cared, even when he didn't vocalize that thought.

And because Daryl was nervous, Alma had an internal breakdown. She felt like she maybe had overstepped a boundary during their five years. Maybe she made him uncomfortable. Maybe she should have said something earlier.

"Soooo," Daryl started, stopping in front of the carousel. "we've been pretty serious right?"

"I would think so" she responded, giving him her best smile. It probably looked a bit forced but at least she tried right?

"Well," he looked at the ground, then the stands behind her, and finally he turned to the carousel.

Daryl rubbed his neck and turned back to the petite woman in front of him. At that moment he realized she looked about ready to cry, and he also realized the amount of suspense he was putting her in.

"Shit, no, no, no don't cry damnit" he ushered taking her face in his hands. The rough pads of his thumbs wiped furiously at her cheeks when the tears started cascading. "This ain't how ya brother said it would go!" the mumbling that fell off his lips were probably inaudible to most but she had become quite proficient in the art of the Dixons.

"Why were you speaking to Julian?" she questioned quietly, whipping her own face.

Daryl fumbled for a bit before pulling out an envelope from and giving it so her.

Inside the envelope was a letter:

Dear Alma,

How do you start a letter? Maybe with I love you or something. I know I don't say it a lot. And I'm sorry for that.

I guess what I'm trying to explain is that if I was reborn again then I would want to find you all over again. I mean you even like Merle for fucks sake, and I'm not even sure Merle likes Merle.

And don't get me started on you. Your hair smells like fresh baked cookies all the time. When you're happy your eyes almost sparkle. You may hate that you're small but you are the perfect size for me to rest my arms over your shoulder comfortably.

My friends think I'm a pussy for writing you instead of using my own mouth but your mom promised me you would find it romantic.

So with all of that in mind I would just like you to be with me, 'cause I'm not sure I remember how to function without you. And I know you don't really need me but I really need you. And I've decided that I'm okay with being selfish when it comes to you. P.J says you shouldn't keep a bird locked in a cage but I thought that maybe if that bird had a friend, or more preferably a husband, she wouldn't feel so closed in?

I guess what I'm asking is would you be okay with marrying me?

When she had reached the end of the letter she walked into Daryl and squeezed the life out of him, the tears soaked his shirt and Daryl let out a sigh of relief at the sudden contact, happy that he wasn't chasing her away, but tensed a little at the sobs racking her small frame. He slowly rubbed her back, waiting for her so say something, and gradually slipping into breakdown territory at the lack of response.

After several minutes of consoling Alma abruptly pulled away, keeping hand over his ribs and standing at arm length. Looking up at Daryl she said:

"If you're fine with sharing then I'll gladly live happily ever after with you Dar-Bear"

Daryl looked at her like she'd grown about seven heads. His face went from confused to almost understanding and back to confused, the slightly irritated and then finally settling for blank.

"Why'd I wanna share my wife?" he grumbled angrily while giving her an irate look.

Alma let out a sudden laugh, only furthering Daryls frustration. If she was going to laugh at him the he wasn't just going to stand there and take it.

Just as he had turned away, ready to run away from the intense humiliation that overtook him, he felt two arms snake around his waist. And weather he wanted to or nor, he just always kind of melted into her nowadays.

"What?!" he barked out, but the words didn't have any bite behind them.

Alma giggled again before maneuvering herself to stand in front of her hopefully soon-to-be husband. Her arms didn't let him go as she looked up at him, waiting patiently for him to be ready to look at her, for him to be comfortable with her gaze.

It took a good 5 minutes at least but his eyes locked with hers and he gave a small nod as a way of saying 'I am now mentally ready for this'.

"I'm not suggesting a polyamorous relationship Daryl, I know you wouldn't be comfortable with that." she explained calmly. "But you will have to share me, darling."

It was in moments like this that Daryl knew why Mable called her daughter Queenie. She was a calm mediator that always tried keeping her head high.

Daryl had once again accidently gotten lost in her, and he wasn't brought back until she blew some air onto his neck. His eyes locked with hers once again.

"Daryl," she started, the same calm understanding tone lacing his name and making him further relax under her loving gaze. "I'm pregnant."