Chapter Twenty-Seven: Epilogue
Twelve years ago, Daryl didn't think he'd survive through his Senior year. A year after that, his father was locked away, his brother was back, and Daryl let himself believe he might just make it out alive.
In the end, he'd outdone himself. There was a photo that sat on his nightstand. In it, he's wearing a long green gown about which he'd fought endlessly with Mrs. Grimes. The Sheriff is standing on his left, and Mrs. Grimes on the right. There's a diploma in Daryl's shaky hands.
That day, Merle had pulled him into a hug tighter than Daryl could ever recall receiving and told him he was proud. At the time, Daryl had shoved his face into his brother's shoulder to hide the tears welling in his eyes. It wasn't the first time he'd heard those words, not after so long under the Grimes' loving care. But it was the first time a Dixon had gotten them out intact, and Daryl couldn't have been happier.
That scared kid ten years ago would never have imagined what Daryl had become. Wouldn't have believed in the slightest that he'd end up in college, accepted into a real-live four-year college, to study anything he wished. Definitely wouldn't have been able to fathom his graduating with two degrees, one in automotive engineering and another in business. And that kid might have dreamt, but never dared hope, to find himself the owner of his own auto shop only a decade later.
They'd renamed the place Dixon Motors when Dale retired, and Daryl got to come in every morning and grin at that sign. It was the first time in his life his last name had been respected, even revered by some folks in town. Dixon wasn't a place marker for a curse or put-down, not anymore. And even though it had taken Merle weeks of badgering to convince Daryl to put their name up so high where anyone could see it, the jackass had been right. Now, Daryl and Merle worked together every day, only bickering half the time, and snorted ruthlessly whenever a customer referred to one of them as Mr. Dixon.
Daryl's legs were peeking out from underneath a slick, black Chevy. He was still partial to getting his hands dirty, even if it meant working late a night or two each week to keep the books up to date and catch up on orders. A warm, denim-clad leg pressed up against his calf.
"Need any help down there, sugar?" a sickly-sweet voice asked.
Daryl rolled his eyes. It was just an oil change, any moron with a socket wrench could do it. But ever since high school, every slut in town seemed to know he swung both ways. And he'd seen this particular stringbean cruising by in his truck three times now, apparently trying to time his visit for a day when Daryl was working in the shop.
"Nope," Daryl said. He kicked out his legs and slid out from under the truck, hopped to his feet unassisted even as the man in front of him held out a helpful hand. Daryl sidestepped him and shoved the red rag in his fist into the back pocket of his jeans. "You're all set."
"Already?" the man crooned, batting his eyelashes so hard it was practically comical. He closed the distance between them, and Daryl had to fight not to shove him back. Assaulting a customer wasn't exactly good for business. "But we were just getting acquainted."
"I'll just go in back, get your receipt," Daryl muttered, trying to move around him again.
"Wait!" the boy said. A hand darted out to grab him by the wrist, and this time Daryl couldn't help it. He pushed the guy away hard, then grabbed him by the collar to keep him standing. A split second, and he dropped the kid entirely, taking a step back.
"Sorry," Daryl mumbled under his breath, "What do ya want?"
"It's nothing," the boy said, completely unfazed. He smiled a set of movie-star white teeth and leaned in. "It's just...the truck's been making a noise. Thought you might check it out for me."
"A noise," Daryl repeated, one eyebrow cocked incredulously.
"Yeah, a sort of high-pitched...uh, rattling," he said.
Daryl crossed his arms over his chest.
Another dazzling smile. "Please?" He stepped closer, apparently neglectful of his own safety, and put his hand on Daryl's forearm.
And Daryl was about to push the moron away. About to really lay him on his ass this time and tell him to get himself and his girly fucking truck out of here pronto. But then there was a screech of tires as a car slammed to a halt in front of the shop, and a succession of honks that could only mean one thing.
Daryl would know that cruiser anywhere.
He'd worked it over more times than he could count, and in fact had a contract with the county police offering them a special rate for their exclusive business. But that cruiser, the one billowing up dust outside, was his favorite. And it claimed the title mainly because of who sat inside it.
The days after what happened at the cabin were a blur, and Daryl had tried for years to burn the time he'd spent there from his memory. There was only one good thing that had come from that nightmare, and he was stepping out of the driver's side of the cruiser with a grin on his face.
Daryl never would have pegged Rick for a cop, not when they were growing up. But something about saving that girl in the cabin had stuck with him. Maybe the adrenaline, maybe helping someone who needed helping or putting away some fuck-ups that deserved a hell of a lot worse. Daryl figured what had really sealed the deal was when the first cop on the scene took Rick aside to tell him what a good job he'd done, how he'd saved that girl's life and he ought to think of joining the force one day.
That statement had stuck with the young Grimes, right up until his first day at the academy. And maybe Daryl wouldn't have expected Rick to follow his father's footsteps into law enforcement when they first met. But now, he wouldn't have it any other way. Especially considering who the Chief had assigned as Rick's partner.
A head of dark, short-cropped hair popped up out of the car as soon as it came to a stop, and Daryl only had to cast a single fleeting glance in his big brother's direction to know that Merle had called him there.
Shane stormed up to him with a deep frown. He gave the stringbean at Daryl's side the once-over, eyes streaming up and down his body with menace. Then, he grabbed Daryl by the neck and pulled him into a searing kiss.
Even with Merle whooping it up in the background, and Rick's dramatic groan of "Really, guys?", Daryl couldn't help but melt right into it. Kissing Shane was always like that. It kept him centered, made the rest of the world fade away and any fears or judgments drift off with the wind. It was a display of dominance, that same alpha mentality that had had him and Shane at odds so many times before, but Daryl couldn't get enough of it.
When Shane finally pulled back an inch or so to breathe, Daryl followed his lips with a light moan.
The stringbean gaped at them with an open mouth and wide eyes.
Shane smirked hard at his stunned expression. "Want somethin', boy?"
He grinned at Daryl, eyes sparkling in a way the younger man knew meant trouble, and made for the garage. Shane didn't need to look back to know that Daryl was only steps behind him. When they moved, they moved as a unit. Shane would never tire of that.
Inside, only just out of view, Shane stopped in front of a shiny spectacle of a four-wheeler.
"Is this that fucker's truck?"
"Mmhmm," Daryl confirmed. He let Shane pull him close, until they could feel the heat of each other's mouths. "Merle called ya?"
"Said I needed to get down here and defend your honor," Shane said with a chuckle. He nibbled along the column of Daryl's neck. "How am I doin'?"
"Ain't no damsel in distress," Daryl huffed.
"Nah, you ain't. But you are mine," Shane said. His eyes had gone dark, and Daryl couldn't look away. Shane backed him up until his ass met the truck-bed. "I'm gonna fuck you right here. Right on that jackass's truck. Show him who you belong to."
It wasn't a question in construct, but Shane kept his arms loose on Daryl's hips, giving him an out.
"Yeah," Daryl whispered, "Yeah. Want you to."
Shane smiled and ripped his shirt over his head in one smooth movement. He went for Daryl's clothes next, tugging at a stubborn belt and popping off buttons while Daryl busied himself with opening Shane's fly.
Naked and panting, Daryl fell back into the truck bed with Shane between his legs. Shane ground their rigid lengths together and sucked at the base of Daryl's collar bone.
"Were you letting that kid get under your skin?" Shane asked.
"Wasn't lettin' him do nothin'," Daryl grumbled, but he held tightly to Shane's shoulders and pulled him impossibly closer. "He's lucky I didn't knock his teeth out."
Shane chuckled lightly and let his mouth descend lower, nipping and licking at Daryl's nipples until they were swollen peaks, until he twitched at the slightest touch.
"Can't exactly blame him for appreciating the merchandise," Shane murmured. "But everyone in town oughta know by now that you ain't on the market. Never gonna be, huh?"
"No," Daryl whined as Shane's tongue dipped into his navel. "Don't want no one else."
"That's right," Shane said. He nibbled at the inside of Daryl's thigh, and the younger man threw his head back and moaned. "'Cuz I'm all you need, huh? No one else makes you feel this good."
"Shane, please…" Daryl gasped. His legs were trembling, but he closed his hand around Shane's wrist like a vice.
Shane caught his eye, smiled widely, and sucked Daryl's cock down as far as it would go.
"Oh, fuck!" Daryl cried, as heat and wetness and pleasure hit him all at once. And even though he could hear Merle cackling away outside, and hear Rick slamming the cruiser door as he sought out some solace from the sound of him and Shane together, Daryl couldn't get himself under control. Not when Shane's head was bobbing up and down on his length, tongue swirling over the head and digging the tiniest bit into the slit until Daryl thought he might die.
Daryl writhed on the truck bed under Shane. He was too caught up in the openness of their location to watch, not when Shane looked so fucking sexy slurping away at his cock in the middle of the garage and in broad daylight. Hips twitching, Daryl moaned and fell onto his back. He dug his fingers into Shane's shoulder.
Shane pulled away from him with an obscene pop, and Daryl let out a helpless whine.
"You're fuckin' beautiful, you know that?" Shane said. He ducked his head lower and wrapped his arms around Daryl's thighs, pulling them up and apart.
Daryl's stomach clenched wantonly and his breathing hitched. Shane had always been strong. Hard muscle from head to toe rather than the carefully sculpted arms that Daryl boasted. And even if they'd likely reign even in a match of strength, nothing ever had Daryl pulsing with need quicker than when Shane held him down and took control.
Shane ran the tip of his tongue over the furl of muscle in front of him, moaning a little himself when Daryl gasped and bucked in his arms. He flattened his tongue and lapped at Daryl's pucker, then drove it down when the man in his arms relaxed.
"Shane!" Daryl moaned, desperate, speared on Shane's tongue with no way to escape. "Just fuck me. C'mon, Shane. Please!" His cock twitched against his belly as a shot of pre-cum splashed across his already wet navel.
With the ease of nearly a decade of practice, Shane grabbed ahold of Daryl's hip and flipped him onto his stomach, then jerked him back onto his hands and knees. He buried his face between Daryl's cheeks again, and the younger man groaned his name like a prayer.
"Ah, God, please!" Daryl begged. He shot a hand down to his aching cock and wrapped his fingers around the base. Still, Shane wouldn't relent. "Don't make me come, yet. Please, Shane. Don't wanna do it yet. Ah, fuck."
"No?" Shane asked, licking away at his leisure. "Why not?"
A shiver ripped down Daryl's spine. This had been Shane's favorite game, as of late, making him ask for it. In fucking detail.
"Wanna come when you fuck me," Daryl said quietly, catching Shane's eye over his shoulder. "Wanna feel you inside me, when I do it. Feel what I do to you."
"What else?" Shane breathed. He slipped two fingers inside Daryl easily, his body still wet and wanting from the languid sex they'd had that morning.
"I- I- fuck...want all of you touchin' me, when I come. Not just your mouth."
"What parts of me?"
"Your hands," Daryl said, rocking back against Shane. "You arms. Your fuckin' tongue. Wanna feel you everywhere."
"You will," Shane promised. He climbed up onto the truck and lined himself up. "You're gonna feel me for fuckin' days."
Shane pushed inside, smooth as silk, and Daryl's moan echoed out into the road.
"Fuck, yes," Shane hissed. He had a firm grip on Daryl's hips. But instead of slamming their bodies together and chasing down their pleasure, Shane pulled Daryl slowly against him. They rocked into each other carefully, like puzzle pieces snapped into place from a great distance.
"Feel so good, Daryl," Shane groaned. "Always so good for me, huh? My good boy."
"God, Shane," Daryl whimpered. The older man felt Daryl clench down around him and shudder uncontrollably. And the warbling, pleading tone of Daryl's voice when he said Shane's name was nearly enough to push the older man over the edge.
Abruptly, Shane sat back on his calves and pulled Daryl right along with him, sending himself as deep into the younger man as he could go.
"Ahh! Shane!" Daryl shouted at the new angle. One hand scrambled back for Shane's shoulder, and the other for Shane's hip. Daryl turned his head blindly and found Shane's lips, melted into him while the man he'd loved since he was a teenager bucked harder and harder against him.
"Gonna make you come so hard," Shane moaned, "And I'm the only one who'll ever get to see it, right?"
"Just you," Daryl gasped, "Don't want no one else."
Three of Shane's fingers slipped into Daryl's mouth, gathering wetness before they dropped to wrap firmly around Daryl's twitching length.
"Oh god," Daryl moaned. "Can't hold it. Can't-"
"You know what I wanna see," Shane growled just behind Daryl's ear, before sucking an angry mark where his neck met his shoulder. "Do it for me."
With Shane pounding away at Daryl's prostate like it was his fucking job, and stroking his length with the perfect grip, Daryl hardly had a choice in the matter. Daryl's hips were trembling, bucking back and forth at the dual sensations without any sense of coordination.
Shane wrapped an arm around Daryl's middle and pumped into him harder, faster, shoving deep until he could feel Daryl quivering from the inside out. Shane pressed two fingers down below Daryl's balls, to the spot just above where they connected. He fisted Daryl faster, with building intensity until finally, neither of them could take it anymore.
When Daryl came, it was a lot more like blacking out. His body was so oversensitive and wrung out that he barely registered when Shane followed him a moment later. Somehow, he ended up chest to chest with Shane, straddling his lap with his head on Shane's shoulder. There was come all over the truck-bed, and the whole garage smelled like sex, but Christ it had been worth it.
Daryl felt two of Shane's fingers slide back into him from behind. Shane pressed hard at his spot, and didn't let up until Daryl sobbed into his chest, cock twitching uselessly between them as the sensation became too much to bear.
Letting out a long, contented sigh, Daryl carefully fingered the scar at Shane's left side. It was small, and thin. Told nothing, by the look of it, of all the pain it had caused.
That scar served as a reminder of a lot of unpleasant things. Being held back in Merle's arms as the paramedics shocked Shane's heart back into submission. The ride in the ambulance, when Shane's hand had been limp in his own. That moment in the waiting room at the hospital when Mr. and Mrs. Grimes had first rounded the corner, and he'd broken down sobbing. Months of physical therapy. Years of nightmares.
But there were good memories to go along with the bad. The best of which was the moment the nurse had smiled at him, and said "He's asking for you." Daryl had sprinted to Shane's room, and it had been a miracle he hadn't tripped and cracked his head on the linoleum tile. But as soon as his and Shane's eyes met, Shane burst into tears. Even now, he blamed it on the pain medications. But Daryl had seen the relief there. The love.
Over the years, Daryl had dozens of nightmares about that cabin. But Shane had more. And each time he woke up gasping for air, Daryl would soothe him through it. Trace the scar on his left side and remind him that they were both alive and together.
At first, Daryl had hesitated to touch the spot at all. He worried that the smallest move in the wrong direction could rip the rug out from underneath him. In his nightmares, Shane died on that porch. In his nightmares, he bled out in the ambulance, seized in his hospital bed. Even worse, Daryl sometimes dreamt that Shane had never existed at all. That he'd been a construct of Daryl's own mind, meant to help him cope, or protect himself.
Daryl picked his head up off of Shane's shoulder and looked him in the eye.
"I love you."
Shane smiled at him, the gentle version he reserved only for Daryl, and held the younger man by the side of his face.
"Love you too."
They kissed again, until Shane broke it with a chuckle.
"I thought being married meant your sex life went to shit," Shane said.
Daryl snorted and scowled at him. "We ain't married."
"May as well be," Shane said, eyes shining. "We live together. We've got a joint bank account. I do the dishes when you cook dinner." He fingered the chain around Daryl's neck. "You wear my jewelry," Shane added, and then Daryl really did frown at him.
"Fuck you," Daryl pouted, shoving at him softly.
"Next time, sweetheart."
And Daryl couldn't really argue with that.
Back outside, Daryl threw the stringbean the keys to his truck.
"You're all set," Daryl said with a smirk, "Merle here can process that receipt for ya."
The kid looked paler than snow, and Daryl felt a little proud about that. The boy slinked off after Merle, and Rick hopped out of the cruiser.
"Lunch break over?" Rick teased. "We've got criminals to apprehend."
"Yeah, yeah," Shane brushed him off. He pulled Daryl in for another kiss.
"Don't forget to get over to the house early, tonight," Rick said to Daryl. "You know how Mom gets about Christmas Eve. And I'm not gonna be making excuses for your dumbass like last year."
"I'll be there," Daryl said. There was no place he'd rather be.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
When Daryl walked into the Grimes house late that afternoon, Shane was sitting at the kitchen table swapping war stories with the now-retired Sheriff. Mrs. Grimes was busy in the kitchen preparing some sort of feast they'd never be worthy of consuming. Rick and Merle were in the midst of a heated argument in the living room. And while the two of them arguing wasn't exactly a new attraction, the women plastered to either of their sides certainly was.
Daryl grinned when Michonne distracted Rick with a hand in his lap. They'd met while he was at the academy in Atlanta, and had been inseparable ever since. Rick didn't bullshit her, and even when he did, Michonne didn't take any of his bullshit.
On counterpoint, Andrew had her legs draped over Merle's, and was currently refusing to return him his beer. Since she'd presided over Merle's hearing when Daryl was still a teen, Andrea had gravitated towards Merle. In turn, Merle had gravitated right back towards her. They bickered almost as much as he and Merle did, but Daryl thought they were kind of perfect for each other.
Daryl padded quietly over to Shane's chair and put his hands on his shoulders. Shane titled his head back to look at him and smiled.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
When he and Shane left at the end of the night, Daryl knew something was up. For one, Shane was refusing to look him directly in the eye, and kept wringing his hands on the steering wheel.
A decade ago, Daryl's mind would have jumped to the worst.
"Well I know you ain't cheating on me, so where'd you dump the body?" Daryl asked him.
Shane tensed, briefly, then broke down and smiled.
"That where we're headin' now?" Daryl asked, "'Cuz we just passed the turn for our place."
Shane sighed. "I wanted to give you your Christmas present early."
"Is my Christmas present a dead body?" Daryl deadpanned.
"Stop." Shane pulled out onto the highway. "Thing about this present is, it'd be easier to give it to you if we were married. But I think I know exactly what you're gonna say to that-"
"We don't need no fancy titles," Daryl groaned, "You and me, we're good. We're together. We love each other. Why the hell do we need the government to tell us that's real?"
Shane laughed. "I know. You've told me before. And I'm good with that, really. Just wanted to make sure we were still on the same page." He reached across Daryl's body, popped open the glove compartment, and extracted a small photograph.
"Here," Shane said, handing it to him.
In the photograph was a girl. Seven or eight years old, by the looks of her. She had long, dark hair kept in two thick braids, and bright blue eyes. She was smiling brightly, and Daryl guessed this was her school photo.
"Whose this?" Daryl asked, placing the photo on the dash, "Missing person?"
"Nope," Shane said. He kept his eyes carefully on the road in front of him. "That's the kid we're gonna adopt."
Daryl choked on his spit. They'd talked about this, talked about it and fought about it and talked about it some more. Daryl wanted a family. He wanted to flip the Dixon curse on its head, and help a kid who needed helping. But Shane had always brought it up like it wouldn't happen for years, if ever. And lately, he hadn't been willing to discuss it at all. Daryl gaped at him.
"Filed the application a month ago. And considering we're town heroes and all, I knew we'd get accepted," Shane said. "Check the glove compartment. Her file's in there."
Daryl blinked at him, but did as Shane said.
Her name was Danielle, but she preferred Danny. She was born in a small town up in the mountains, just a couple hours' drive from the place where Daryl and Shane had grown up. Her father was well-known in town for having a short temper. He'd been arrested for starting fights at the local bar at least a dozen times.
And four months ago, her father had gotten drunk and beaten Danny's mother to death while she watched. Half delirious, her mother had pleaded for Danny to run while she still could. So, she took off into the woods. And a few hours later, her father wrapped his car around a telephone pole and died on impact.
It was seventeen days before they found her. Though found wasn't really the right word when what she actually did was walk out of the woods and into the police station, sit down in reception, and calmly ask for some Rocky Road ice cream and to see the Chief, in that order. Danny had already been kicked out of three foster homes. In the file, her social worker said that she was unruly and hostile, a little bit feral.
Daryl thought she was perfect.
"Really?" Daryl asked.
Shane chanced a look in his direction, and saw that Daryl was smiling. Suddenly, Shane was smiling too.
"We could pick her up tomorrow morning," Shane confirmed, "Have her home before dinner."
"That where we're headed now?"
"Mmhmm. Thought we could get a hotel for the night. Go see her first thing in the morning."
Daryl nodded to himself. "And... they really said yes?"
"They did," Shane said.
Daryl smiled as wide as his cheeks would allow. "We're gonna be Dads."
TWDTWDTWDTWD
The next morning, Daryl fidgeted the entire way to the foster home. He fidgeted while they waited for the social worker, and tapped his foot restlessly when she went to retrieve Danny from upstairs.
When she returned, there was a tiny thing with a messy mop of dark hair tucked warily into place behind her.
"Daryl, Shane," the woman said, "This is Danielle."
Danny glared at her. "It's Danny," she retorted emphatically. Daryl suspected it wasn't the first time she'd had to correct her.
"Danielle," the woman continued as if she hadn't heard her, "These nice men want to adopt you!"
Danny frowned at her. "Boys can do that?"
"Daryl here is my boyfriend," Shane explained gently, "We're together."
To Danny's credit, she didn't seem the least bit perturbed by the news.
"Oh," Danny replied.
"Wouldn't that be wonderful?" the social worker asked, "You'll have two dads!"
That was the wrong thing to say. Daryl knew it; Shane knew it. Any moron with half a brain would know it.
Danny tensed up and backed towards the kitchen.
"You can't make me go with them," she whispered.
"Now, Danielle-" the woman tried.
"No! You can't make me!" she shouted. And before the social worker could grab her, Danny had bolted through the back door.
"I'm so sorry," the woman gushed, "I thought she'd react better than that. She's just been through so much and-"
"Relax," Shane cut her off, "Let us handle it. Part of the territory, right?" He looked to Daryl. "You wanna take this one?"
Daryl gnawed at his lower lip. "You sure? You're a hell of a lot friendlier looking."
Shane took his hand and gave him a soft look. "That's not true. And even if it was, you're the one she needs to talk to right now. If she's going to trust anyone, it'll be you."
"Alright," Daryl sighed. He nodded to himself and made for the back door. "Alright."
As it turned out, Danny hadn't gone far. The yard had a tall fence around it, and she was shoved into the farthest corner. Daryl walked over to her slowly. He pulled out a cigarette as he advanced and lit it, then stopped with a good distance still between them and slumped down against the wall.
"Hey," he said, "You're Danny, huh? I'm Daryl."
Danny glared at the ground and ripped out grass in thick handfuls.
"I get why you ain't so keen on leaving with us," Daryl tried, "Hell, I'd be worried if you'd agreed right off the bat. You don't know a thing about us."
"There are lotsa other kids here," Danny said quietly, "You should take one of them."
"We want you."
She finally looked up at him. To Daryl's surprise, she seemed confused more than anything.
"But there are nice kids here. Bet they'd be real happy to have two Daddies."
"And what about you?"
"I don't want another Daddy," she muttered.
"Now there's somethin' I can understand," Daryl said, "Never liked my Daddy much neither. Wasn't too keen on replacing him."
She didn't respond, but she wasn't running off either, so Daryl took it as permission to continue.
"He was a mean son of a bitch," Daryl said, "Used to get lit and beat the shit out of me. Did the same to my brother, before he left. And my Mom, before she died. He liked to tell me it was my fault. Wasn't 'til I met Shane that I realized how wrong he was."
He took a long draw of his cigarette. "What did yours tell you?"
Danny rubbed her hands together, and rained grass and dirt down onto her lap.
"That I'm a good for nothin' waste of space, just like my Mama."
Daryl ducked his head to force eye contact, uncomfortable as it was for the both of them.
"You know that's a bunch of bullshit, right?"
Danny squinted up at him. "Grown ups ain't supposed to curse so much."
"Well, it'll be our secret then," Daryl replied, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards. "Do me a favor and don't tell Shane. And especially not that social worker of yours. She seems like she could really lay into a guy."
"Okay," Danny said, "What happened to your Daddy?"
"Went to jail for hurting me, and a whole slew of other things. Wasn't the most likeable guy on the outside, and he ended up getting into a fight he couldn't win. He died, and I got him cremated. Left the ashes with my Mom. Dunno if they really would have wanted to be stuck together forever, but it ain't like they got much of a choice anymore."
Danny picked at a scab on her knee. "Were you sad?"
"It's complicated," Daryl said. He blotted his cigarette out in the dirt. "My Dad never did a good thing in his whole life. Screwed me up pretty good, too. But he was still my Dad, ya know? Felt guilty at first, for feelin' sad even after all he'd done to me. Shane set me straight, though. Sometimes you've gotta let yourself feel whatever you need to."
"My Daddy was so mean to me and Mama. I used to wish he would go away. Does that make me bad?"
"No, darlin'. That's normal."
"But then he did go away," Danny whispered. "And he took Mama with him. And- and- it was my fault, wasn't it? I shouldn't have wished it."
"No. Honey, that wasn't your fault at all. It was his, okay? But what's important is you survived. You made it, and now he can't hurt you anymore." Daryl inched slightly closer. "What's important is now you can have any life you want. So lemme ask ya- is it just me and Shane you don't like, or is it everyone?"
The corner of Danny's mouth quirked up, briefly, and Daryl wanted to shout his victory up towards the sky.
"Y'all ain't so bad," Danny said.
"Thanks."
The back door creaked as it opened again, and Daryl smiled when he spotted Shane trudging his way over, looking uncertain. When he reached them, Shane crouched down in front of Daryl, licked his thumb, then rubbed it at a particularly stubborn spec of dirt on the side of Daryl's face.
The younger Dixon swatted at him and scowled.
"Quit your mother henning!"
To their right, Danny had her hand over mouth. Even so, she couldn't hide her snickering.
"What, you think this is funny?" Daryl asked her, grinning. "Just wait 'til he's doin' it to you."
"You like it," Shane said. "So Danny, you thought at all about what we talked about inside?"
"A little," Danny replied, "If...if you send me back, will I be in trouble?"
Daryl and Shane shared a pained look.
"Sweetheart, that won't happen," Daryl said.
"But none of the other places wanted me. My Daddy didn't neither. He said so."
"We're not like them," Shane said gently. "If you decide you want to come stay with us, then that's it. You're with us. Family."
"And for us that means somethin'," Daryl added. "Means if things ain't working, we don't just give up. We work harder. And if they still ain't right, then we work even harder than that. That's what families do."
Danny brought her thumb nail to her mouth and bit slowly at the edge of it. And right then, Shane knew there was no going back. This was their girl.
"You promise?" she asked them. Her voice was so small, and Shane just wanted to reach out and wrap her in his arms, even if he knew better than to try.
"We promise," Shane said.
Danny nodded and pushed herself onto her feet. "Okay, let's go."
An hour later, Danny's social worker watched from the window as the trio made their way back to Daryl's truck. Halfway across the yard, Danny reached out tentatively and slid her hand into Daryl's. When he looked down at her and smiled, she grabbed Shane's hand too, more confidently this time.
On the ride home, Danny sat firmly wedged between Daryl and Shane's broad forms. She dozed against Daryl's shoulder, and he held himself still as concrete to keep from waking her.
They rolled up to the Grimes' house just after noon.
"What do you think?" Daryl asked her warmly, "Ya wanna meet the rest of your family?"