The rain beating on the roof of the covered porch was soothing. Michonne was curled up in one of the porch chairs with Hope, and a bunch of pillows that she'd collected, deciding that the cushion that had been in the chair wasn't sufficient for the level of comfort that she wanted to achieve while listening to the relaxing sound. Across the porch from her, Carol sat in the swing, mending clothes from a box she had next to her. Judith was sitting on the floor building towers with blocks and knocking them over promptly, squealing with joy each time they came crashing down. Hope had been playing with her, but apparently her mother's lap had looked more inviting than all the toys.
"I really wanted to do laundry today," Carol said, "not mending."
"Do you want me to help you?" Michonne asked.
"No, I'm fine. I don't mind it too much. It gives me time to think, or time to chat if you're feeling chatty," Carol said, not looking up from her work.
This rain was a pouring downfall, the kind that shut everything down around the community. You could work through small showers, Carol could even get fires going to some degree when it was light enough, but today there wouldn't even be any hot food. It wasn't possible to start a fire when it was like this.
"What is it they say, April showers bring May flowers?" Michonne asked.
"That's what they say, but I am almost certain that it's not April yet, March maybe, but not April. It won't be too much longer, though, and then we'll be planting," Carol said.
"That's kind of exciting, I am really looking forward to eating something fresh for a change," Michonne said.
"Some of it we'll eat right away, but a lot we'll be putting up. Maggie and Glenn really scored in finding me a ton of Mason jars," Carol said. "I'm going to need help with that, so I guess you'll be helping me," Carol said.
"Why me? I don't have the slightest clue about canning," Michonne said. She really didn't feel confident with many of the more domestic tasks that Carol did. She had never been much of a cook, and she wasn't that good at sewing. The laundry she could handle from time to time, but the idea of canning, something she knew nothing about, seemed a little overwhelming.
"Well, I'm guessing that by the time we'll be ready to start canning anything you will be waiting on a baby, so I'll have you as a captive audience, I'm sure it won't be that hard to teach you what to do. I could use the help, too. I haven't figured out yet how Daryl thinks I'm going to be juggling all the tasks I've got to work through without some extra hands," Carol said.
"I'm sure if you told him that you needed hands, he'd give them to you. We've got plenty of people to go around," Michonne said.
"Well, it's certainly going to be an all hands on deck experience when we're planting, there's no way around that. Everyone is going to have to be involved," Carol said.
"I'm sure everyone is going to be more than happy to be involved in that," Michonne said, "you won't have any argument there," Michonne said.
Daryl came out on the porch a few minutes later, he walked to the edge of it and looked out for a minute, not saying anything. He was a little frustrated by the rain. He'd rather be out there working at the demo site than sitting in the house waiting for the storm to pass.
"Daryl, sit down, there's no use fretting about the rain. It'll stop when it's ready to stop," Michonne said.
Daryl sighed and came over, taking a seat next to her and dragging it right next to her chair so that he could play with Hope while she sat in her lap.
"We could get a lot done in a day, and we're runnin' outta days. I just wish all this rain would hold off until we got everything in the ground. Then it could water the crops insteada keepin' us all cooped up when we could be clearin' more land," Daryl said.
"Worrying won't make it stop, Daryl, and besides, I hope we don't get a rain like this right away. It could wash the seeds out of the ground if we're not careful, and then we really would have a mess," Carol said. "Why don't you go upstairs and get me that shirt you tore the other day? I can fix it while we're sitting here and you'll have it back as soon as I get a chance to do the laundry," Carol said.
Daryl got up and went back in the house.
"The key," Carol said, "is to try to keep him busy."
Michonne snickered.
"What do you propose we have him do when he gets back?" Michonne asked.
"I've got more than a few bobbins of thread and needles tucked around that I'm going to need him to fetch. If he does that one at a time, I might be able to come up with a little more to keep him occupied," Carol said, smiling at Michonne.
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Daryl was alone in the house. Carol was missing, Hope was missing, and Michonne was missing. If Tyreese had slept over the night before, he was missing too. Daryl was all by himself, except for Judith. He hadn't been fully awake when Judith had started to cry, and by the time he got dressed and got in her room, she was hysterical.
"What is it, Jude?" He asked, coming in the room.
"Duck!" She screamed out at him, through her sobs. "Mine duck!"
Daryl looked in her crib for the familiar yellow and orange creature that she drug everywhere. He picked up blankets, moved a sippy cup of water to the changing table, and looked around, but the duck wasn't in the crib. He offered her a dog that was in there, but she refused that adamantly, still not subsiding with her screeching.
"Look, Jude, it ain't in here," he said.
"Duck! Mine duck!" She kept commanding at him, alternating between screaming and these forced sobbing sounds.
"I know you want the duck, but I ain't got it," he said.
Daryl looked in Hope's crib, thinking maybe Michonne had absentmindedly moved the darn thing. There was nothing in Hope's crib either. Now Judith was holding on to the top of the crib and shaking it violently. Her face was all red.
Damn kid's gonna blow up. Daryl thought to himself.
"Caw! Caw!" Judith screamed at him.
"I ain't got that neither!" Daryl responded. He looked around the room but there was no sign of the toy. Finally, he got down on his hands and knees and looked up under all the furniture. Damn duck couldn'ta just flown away.
Daryl finally plucked the screaming child out of her crib. She continued crying in his arms, something she rarely did.
"Listen, Jude, you gotta listen to me," Daryl said.
Judith responded by looking directly at him. She stopped screaming, but giant tears were still rolling down her face and now she was hiccupping.
"I ain't got him, but that don't me I ain't gonna find him, but I can't find him with you screamin' like that," Daryl said. "Now, I bet your ma knows where he is an' we're gonna go find her, but you gotta have clothes on, so can you hold it together for me to get you dressed?"
Judith didn't respond to him, but she didn't start screaming, so he took that as a yes. He rummaged through the drawers and put the first shirt and pair of pants that he could find on her. She hadn't protested, at least not much, she'd just sucked on first one set of fingers, and then the others, while he'd struggled to get her into the clothes.
He scooped her up and started out of the house, hoping that Carol wasn't far off.
When Daryl came up carrying Judith, who was hiccupping and looked like she'd been crying, Carol stopped what she was doing with the laundry and got up, drying her hands on her pants.
"What's wrong, Daryl? Did something happen?" She asked. Judith reached for her and she took her from Daryl, noticing for a moment the polka dotted shorts and striped shirt that she was wearing, and deciding that Michonne must have slipped out the house after her with Hope, leaving Daryl to dress the child.
"She wants her damn duck and I can't find the damn thing nowhere," Daryl said, a little irritated.
"It's OK, Daryl, calm down," Carol said. "I can only handle one upset person at a time."
Carol carried Judith over to the drying lines where the duck, which she had stolen that morning and replaced with another stuffed animal while Judith was sleeping, was hanging precariously, pinned by one wing.
"Look, Judith, he's fine. He just had a bath this morning. You know how much you like baths?" Carol asked, kissing Judith's cheek and nuzzling her a little.
Judith didn't remove her fingers from her mouth, but she nodded a little, her eyes not leaving her friend which was pinned right next to someone's shirt.
"Well, he likes baths too, and he was really dirty, so he asked me if he could have a bath. I'll give him back to you as soon as he's done drying off, OK?" Carol asked.
Judith looked at her, but she was much calmer now.
"Come on, let's go get some breakfast," Carol said to Judith. "Daryl, come on, I have some breakfast for you too."
Daryl came over and followed Carol inside to get breakfast.
"The next time you gonna do somethin' like that, at least tell me. I don't know what to do with her all freakin' out like that an' expectin' me to fix it," Daryl said, following in Carol's footsteps.
"You better get used to freak outs, Daryl. You're planning on having two little ones to give you a run for your money, and don't think they won't have their moments. The key is to remain calm. The calmer you are, the calmer they'll be," Carol said. "Now go sit down and I'll bring you a plate. You can feed Judith for me while you're at it."
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"Stop worrying about it, Daryl," Michonne said that night. Daryl had been worrying all day about the episode with Judith that morning, though the girl was happily asleep in her crib right now.
Daryl huffed at her.
"I just don't wanna be no bad daddy, 'Chonne. I don't wanna mess up," Daryl said.
"Daryl, do you honestly think that because you couldn't completely calm down an irate toddler that means you'll be a bad daddy?" Michonne asked. Daryl was silent. "Would you like to ask Hope what she thinks about it, or even Judith for that matter? They both adore you."
"She wouldn't stop cryin'," Daryl said. "I couldn't make her stop cryin'."
"Because you didn't have what she wanted, but it doesn't mean you did anything wrong," Michonne reasoned. "Listen, Daryl, there are only three bottles that Hope will willingly drink out of for Carol if I'm not around, and those are the three I brought from my house. My girls wouldn't drink out of any other kind of bottle. Do you know why?"
"Why?" Daryl asked.
"Because of the nipple. The nipple is shaped a little bit differently on those bottles than it is on the ones we've found around here. Apparently it's more like mine for my children's tastes. Judith won't drink water at bedtime out of just any sippy cup, it has to be that one with the purple lid," Michonne said.
"So, what's that got to do with anything?" Daryl asked.
Michonne ran her finger around his chest, her body curled into him and her head in the crook of his arm.
"Children, especially toddlers, can be very picky about things. It doesn't mean that you're a bad parent if you can't make them happy all the time. They're stuck at a point where they can't communicate with you entirely, and they can't reason at the same level that you can. You knew you were trying to find the duck, but all Judith could see was that she still didn't have it, that doesn't make you a bad guy," Michonne said.
Daryl was still silent.
"Daryl, Hope is not always going to be happy with us, and with the decisions that we make or what happens around her. That's going to be even more the case if we go on the move again. While we're here, we can indulge them as much as possible, but there's never been a child in the history of the world that thought their parents were perfect, at least not in the moment. That doesn't mean their parents aren't good parents," Michonne said.
"I just don't wanna be a bad daddy," Daryl said.
"You're not, and you're not going to turn into a bad daddy," Michonne said. "Believe me, you're a very good daddy, and Hope's lucky to have you. Judith's lucky to have you for everything that you do for her. You're a very good daddy, otherwise you wouldn't keep me up half the night worrying about something that she's already forgotten about."
Michonne knew that for Daryl there were two things that were most important to him, two things that he felt like he needed to make his life complete. The odd thing was that even though life had become bleak, and things were falling apart around them, the things that Daryl needed were still things that he could have, at least for a while.
Daryl needed to be a good husband, and to feel that he was a good husband. Michonne tried to reassure him as often as possible that he was the best husband she, or any woman for that matter, could hope to have. Daryl also needed to be a good father. Michonne also tried to reassure him frequently that he was a good father. Hope spoke monuments to that. She obviously adored Daryl, and laughed and cooed and smiled at him whenever he was in her presence.
The more she thought about it, she didn't know if it was good or bad that Daryl's entire set of life goals boiled down to two things: being a good husband and being a good father. On the one hand, it was wonderful, since it meant that he actually had achieved, whether or not he believed it, both of these goals, but it was also sad because it really spoke monuments to her about his past. For Daryl those were the two biggest things in his life, but she really hated to think about all that he'd been through when, on the other hand, not being that was his greatest fear.
Michonne knew that she didn't ever want to fully grasp the kind of animal that Daryl's father must have been, or even what kind of woman his mother must have been. The scars on his body were horrific enough on their own to tell the story, but knowing that Daryl seemed to think that if he wasn't a great father and a great husband, then he must be what his father was, and that was what he'd put all his energy into avoiding, told her that he must have suffered more than she could even imagine at the hands of the brute that he'd called a father. It even, when she thought about it, gave her reason to forgive Merle for the way that he'd been. They'd been shaped under the same terrible example, and really, she thought, neither of them had done a bad job at turning their lives around, all things considered. Merle had handled things in his own way, and Daryl in his.
"Daryl," Michonne said, "I love you, and Hope loves you, and if we have another baby, it will love you too."
When Daryl still didn't respond, Michonne wasn't sure what to say exactly. His breathing was anything but steady, so she knew he hadn't fallen asleep. He might even be crying, but in the darkness she couldn't tell and he was quiet if that were the case.
"You're a good daddy, Daryl, you're the best daddy that Hope could ask for, and you're not going to change," she urged.
"'Chonne," Daryl said after a minute, "you ever been sorry?"
That was a loaded question. She'd been sorry for a lot of things in her life, too many more things than she wanted to count.
"Sorry for what, Daryl?" Michonne asked.
Daryl was quiet for a minute before continuing, and when he did continue, Michonne thought his voice was different. She detected a certain sadness there, as though he'd already anticipated her reply.
"Sorry you kissed me in the watchtower, sorry you married me, sorry we got Hope…" Daryl said, his voice trailing off.
"The only thing I've been sorry about, Daryl, in regards to you is that I didn't kiss you that day we went out hunting, when I first thought about kissing you," Michonne said.
"You thought about kissing me that day?" Daryl asked, his voice changing again.
"I did," Michonne said.
Daryl snickered.
"What?" Michonne asked.
"Nothin' 'Chonne, I was just rememberin' that was the day I first saw you in them black lace panties that you got an' I couldn't get the damn things off my mind for days," Daryl said.
Michonne smiled.
"So you like black lace panties?" She asked.
"I didn't know I did, 'Chone, not 'til I saw you in 'em and then I was hooked," he replied.
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Carol wasn't sure what Michonne had been up to all day, but she'd disappeared with Hope right after breakfast, declaring that she had some things to take care of. Carol didn't usually question Michonne, she'd found it better to just let her do whatever it was that Michonne was going to do. By now she knew that Michonne was only going to explain herself if she felt like it.
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That evening, Michonne had excused herself a little early, going upstairs and putting Hope to bed.
Daryl had hung around downstairs, chatting with Tyreese and Carol and making plans for the upcoming planting party that would take place.
He'd only gone upstairs, finally, when Carol said something about the unusually early bedtime that Michonne had excused herself for. Daryl started to get concerned, hoping that she was just tired and not that anything else was bothering her or that she wasn't feeling well. Finally he'd excused himself and went straight to the bedroom, hearing that all was quiet in the nursery.
When Daryl came into the bedroom, Michonne was in bed, the lamp lit, and she looked expectant.
"I thought you'd be asleep, you feelin' OK?" He asked, shucking his clothes and walking around to his side of the bed.
"It took you long enough to get up here," Michonne said, "and I'm feeling fine."
Just as he was getting into bed, she threw back the covers and got out, walking away from the bed, but still standing within the lamplight. She was wearing a dark pink lace teddy, and Daryl thought for a moment he might be dreaming.
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Michonne had searched a number of houses before coming up with anything that was lace, was her size, and was something she thought might catch Daryl's attention. The fact that he was just staring at her now, not saying anything, no real expression on her face, suddenly made her feel a little exposed and not as confident as she'd felt moments before, though she did her best to hide it.
"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" She asked. She'd never liked these kinds of clothes all that much. She'd always felt ridiculous wearing them, and she only wore them for the response they elicited. At this moment she wasn't getting much of a response from Daryl. "I know it's not black, but it's all that I could find," she added.
"I…I mean…you…you look…amazing," Daryl stammered.
Michonne smiled. His response was honest, and it was completely Daryl. Now she realized that his lack of response before was because he couldn't figure out how to respond.
Michonne crawled onto the bed, as slowly as possible and crawled over to him, pulling the cover off of him.
"Do I?" She asked.
"Mmm hmmm," Daryl responded, leaning toward her to kiss her.
She crawled forward, straddling him and kissed him, biting her lip as she pulled away and then moving down to suck at his neck. She felt him clumsily grabbing at her and she stifled a laugh. She was pretty sure that Daryl wasn't fully functioning at this moment, his hands were clumsy on her body, almost feverish with haste. She could also feel, against her inner thigh, that he'd gone hard immediately, and it turned her on more than she imagined it could.
"Do you want me to take it off?" She asked. "Or do you want to work around it?"
She waited a moment for a response, but there wasn't one, at least not a verbal one. Daryl found her mouth again and searched it with his tongue, his teeth clicking lightly on hers. His hands fumbled at her and she pulled away from his mouth, smiling.
She moved the garment around as best she could, the fit not being ideal, and slid herself down onto him. His face changing in a way that she hadn't seen, or hadn't noticed, in the past. Her mouth made contact with his again, as she tried to move herself to match his thrusts, not allowing him to flip her over, no matter how many times he made a move to do so. She was enjoying the battle mixed with the pleasure, and it didn't seem like it was deterring him at all either.
She felt her own pleasure building, and she knew she wasn't going to last much longer. The very sight of the pleasure he was getting from this was pushing her forward more than she'd imagined it would. As her own climax crashed down upon her, and she fell forward on him, she felt him grab her, pulling her against him as he too found his release.
"I love you," she panted, when she finally had enough breath to do so, still resting on top of him.
"I love you, too," he growled in her ear.