Trigger warnings for this chapter - mention of sibling death and suicide.

I've tried to keep it as brief and surface level as possible xx

For those who have read Property of Daryl Dixon, this is the same-ish story of Tahlia's family - here, retold by Andrea.

Chapter 9 - Birthday

Daryl figured that the corporate environment didn't have quite the same 'tools down and get the fuck outta here' mentality as his workshop or Merle's building site come end of business on a Friday, but still, he thought it took Andrea and Tahlia an unreasonably long time to get their asses to Fox's at the week's end.

Tiny fireworks were popping in his belly, but he couldn't be sure if that was at the anticipation of seeing Tahlia, or at the fact that she wasn't here yet – for some inexplicable reason, he found that he had started to feel more relaxed when she was in his general vicinity than not.

Then Fox's door was flung open and Andrea appeared in a burst of night air and happiness, her eyes locking straight onto Merle's as she beelined to him, still delirious that he was here and not behind bars.

"Fuckin' finally! Took your sweet time!" bellowed Merle as Andrea launched herself into his arms.

It had only been two days since Merle had been cleared of the charges against him, but the two had spent all possible time together since then, their physicality becoming decidedly more graphic, and Daryl wrinkled his nose and averted his eyes, keeping most of his concentration fixed on the door, hoping that Tahlia would arrive soon.

When Merle and Andrea finally rejoined the world around them and sat down at the table, Merle pushed a glass towards her. "Here, have a shot. Ya gotta catch up."

"Ah, no thanks." declined Andrea. "I'm running that workshop tomorrow, remember? I've got to take it easy tonight."

"But you're comin' home with me, right?" asked Merle, happily downing the shot for her.

Andrea shook her head. "No, Merle! We already talked about this! I didn't bring a change of clothes with me, and all the notes I need for my presentations are at home."

"Don't need nothin' tonight. And I'll just take ya home first thing in the mornin'."

"No!" reiterated Andrea, although her lips were pulling in a smile as Merle applied a series of slow kisses to her neck. "Because if I come home with you, I won't get any sleep."

Merle grinned against her ear. "Be the best no sleep you've ever had, promise."

"Ohmyfuckin'gawd." groaned Daryl, balling up a napkin and firing it at his brother's head. "Get a fuckin' room."

"I'm tryna get her to my room." replied Merle, lazily nipping the edge of Andrea's jaw.

"Jesus." complained Daryl, kicking back in his seat. "I really gotta sit here and put up with this shit by myself? Could do with some backup. Where the hell is Silver?" (Fairly certain that his interest in Tahlia's whereabouts was decently disguised by his distaste for the display in front of him).

"Oh." remarked Andrea, the word morphing into a giggle as she smacked Merle's hand away from its upward trajectory on her thigh. "Nah. She's not coming tonight."

Miffed to learn that, Daryl let out a little hiss of irritation.

She was the one who'd been trying to befriend him, yet when he finally put himself out there, extended an olive branch (sure, it was only an offer of a drink and a vague indication that he wanted her to come to Fox's tonight) she didn't even bother to show up.

"What," he said, annoyed that he couldn't temper the bitter edges of his words. "She get a better offer or somethin', huh?"

Perhaps registering the undercurrent of hurt in Daryl's tone, Andrea gave Merle a no-nonsense elbow in the ribs, then crossed her legs demurely and turned to face Daryl.

"Um… not exactly." she replied, taking a sip of Merle's beer. Then, after a long moment of Daryl's hard gaze boring into her with no sign of respite, she sighed and elaborated. "It's her birthday today."

Merle guffawed as he relaxed back and tucked one arm around Andrea's shoulders. "Her birthday?! She havin' some party and we ain't invited?! Bitch is dead to me!" Then realizing that Andrea wasn't sharing in his humor, he leaned into her and dropped one hand to her thigh. "Seriously though, you ain't celebratin' with her? You two have a tiff or somethin'?"

"No! Nothing like that. Not at all." Andrea assured him. "She… just likes to spend her birthday alone."

Curiosity piqued, Daryl leaned forward on the table. "Alone? Why?"

"It's just something she's done for a long time. She takes the day off work and does some stuff on her own."

"But why?" pressed Daryl.

Andrea glared at him and dug her heels in. "If you want to know, then you should ask her."

"Well, she ain't here, and I'm askin' you." retorted Daryl stubbornly, folding his arms.

Merle fixed his brother with a calculating stare. He'd always been of the opinion that if someone wanted you to know their business, then they'd hand it to you, and you shouldn't have to go digging around for it.

"Maybe Tahls don't want ya to know coz you're a fuckin' asshole to her mosta the time. Ever think 'bout that?"

At Daryl's affronted look, Andrea slapped Merle's knee, then shook her head at Daryl. "You're not. Well, I mean, to begin with you were a little… anyway, doesn't matter. She doesn't think that. Honestly." Andrea puffed out a breath and rolled her eyes. "Fine. It's just that it's her story and although she doesn't mind who knows, I prefer not to share it without her knowledge. But, it's you guys, so… ok."

Shifting around in her seat for dramatic effect, Andrea leaned onto her elbows and lowered her voice. "So, you know me and Tahly have known each other for a long time - we grew up just around the corner from each other. She had a twin sister, Charlotte, and they were best friends, inseparable. When they were nine, they were playing by the stream on their property, and Charlotte climbed way up on the rocks above the bank, then slipped and hit her head, fell in the water. It had been raining a lot and the water was higher, faster than normal, and Tahly jumped in after her but she couldn't get her out. Nearly drowned herself trying to save Charlotte."

Daryl's eyes widened, and Merle sat back. "Damn. Her sister died?"

"Yeah." nodded Andrea somberly. "Tahly held onto her body in the water and screamed until someone finally found them. It was so awful. But it got worse because, after that, her mom sank into this deep depression, like could barely function, and because Tahls and Charlotte were identical, she couldn't cope being around Tahlia because all she saw was Charlotte, so she locked herself away, wouldn't interact with Tahly. Then, a couple of years later… she took her own life and Tahly was the one that found her."

"Shit." breathed Daryl, his heart aching for the little girl that had to live through all of that.

"Then," continued Andrea, "After that, her dad was totally broken, and it was like he didn't know how to deal with any of it, so he just gave up on being a dad. Kept Tahlia away from him as much as possible – sent her to boarding school, camps, courses, anything that would keep her away from home – that's why we lost touch during our teenage years, because she was never around - and he threw himself into work. So," she sent a pointed look at Daryl. "You give her a hard time about being rich and privileged, but she wasn't – she grew up just average. Sure, her dad is wealthy now, but it wasn't until her late teens after she'd moved out of home that he started to make a name for himself, make money, and that was only because he lived for work and totally neglected her."

"Bet ya feel like a real asshole now, doncha baby brother?"

Merle's dry observation was totally unnecessary because yeah, of course he did, and a guilty tinge bloomed on Daryl's cheeks as he tried to digest the whole story and accustom himself to this new shade of Tahlia in his head. "Why she ain't never said nothin' to me?"

Andrea raised her brows and a hand. "If it were up to me, I would've set you straight weeks ago. But she said that you seemed to want a reason not to like her, so if it wasn't that, it'd just be something else. She said to just leave it be and see if you would come around on your own."

Daryl scrubbed a hand over his face, knowing that Tahlia had been right. When he'd first met her, when something that had always lain dormant inside him had awakened and stretched and roared, he would have grabbed hold of any reason to keep a barrier between them. He had done that. Had tried to turn his back on this novel fire that burned inside. Didn't mean he could escape its warmth, though.

But, like the inevitability of the ocean eroding the coastline, she had been the constant that had dissolved his walls. Wore him down. Just like she'd said. Not in a negative sense, though, not at all. More like abandoning an unnecessary fight. Succumbing to a riptide. Relaxing into the path of least resistance.

Then Merle spoke up, dragging Daryl back into the present.

"She still sees her dad though, right? Things good with him now?"

Andrea let out a little hiss and shook her head. "No. Not good. I mean like, she tries so hard with him. Always has. Tries to make him proud, to evoke a little bit of fatherly love, affection, but he's like a brick wall. He likes to portray himself in the public eye as a doting father to his daughter, so he invites her to all his events so they can get a picture together, put on a front, and she goes to all of them and is always hopeful that things will change, that he'll open his arms to her, but he never does, and she always ends up upset. It's so fucking hard to watch from the outside, but no matter what anyone says, she keeps trying. Anyway!" Andrea stopped herself from disappearing too far into the subject of Tahlia and her father because it always made her furious with him. "So, on her birthday she just takes some time out to remember Charlotte, appreciate life, that kind of thing."

Glancing between the matching concerned looks the Dixons were wearing, Andrea waved a hand dismissively. "It's not a sad thing, honestly! It's just her little ritual that she's had for more than a decade now. She heads out early in the morning, does whatever she feels like, then reappears late at night all refreshed and happy and her. It's just what she does."

Merle's brow furrowed and he chewed on his lip. "Shouldn't we call her or somethin'?"

"You won't get hold of her today. She won't answer her phone. But don't worry!" Andrea assured them, "She's fine, I promise you."

If Daryl had found it difficult to keep Tahlia from shadowing his thoughts before, it was near impossible now.

It's not like knowing her story changed anything as such – well, obviously now he understood why she hadn't shown up tonight – but he felt like it had given him perspective. Like joining the dots to make a picture emerge. Like she was finally in focus and he could see her clearly now.

Their other friends had arrived and filled up the space around him with chat, but he was still immersed in Tahlia-deep thoughts and couldn't really be bothered engaging in conversation. Next to him, for the hundredth time, Merle and Andrea circled back to who was staying where tonight.

"Wanna get outta here soon?"

"Merle! I should've left an hour ago! I have to go home."

"Baby, naw. Gonna play this one game of pool with Shads, then we're goin'."

"Seriously, Merle. I'm not going back to yours." insisted Andrea, although it was clear her resolve was fast slipping. "I have to go over my notes for tomorrow."

"Do it in the mornin'! Promise I'll have ya home real early."

"Bullshit."

Daryl nudged Andrea. "Why don't I take ya to get your stuff while he's playin' that game?" he offered. "I'm sober driver tonight and I'm gettin' bored as fuck just sittin' round here anyway. I'll take ya home and you can pick up what ya need, then we'll swing by here to get this asshole, then head back to ours."

"Really?" asked Andrea, already warming to that suggestion and rolling her eyes at Merle's ear-wide shit-eating grin. "Ok, thanks! That would work. But, Merle, you have to get me to work by 8:30 tomorrow. And if you don't, I'm holding out on you for a month."

"Yeah, right." scoffed Merle, then hooted as Andrea whacked him in the arm. "Alright! Alright! I'll get ya there. Swear it, baby."

"'Kay." Daryl stood up from the table. "Just lemme shoot to the corner store for some smokes. Be back for ya in a sec."

Twenty minutes later, Daryl parked up in front of the apartment, and Andrea jumped out of the truck.

"Won't be long!"

"Hey," Daryl called after her. "Mind if I come up? Gotta piss."

"Yeah, yeah, course, come on."

She waved for him to follow her as she opened the outer door and headed up two flights of stairs, Daryl a few steps behind, hoping that she wouldn't question his jacket slung over his arm roughly concealing the plastic bag he was carrying.

Inside the apartment, Daryl's gaze was immediately drawn to a huge, fresh bunch of flowers on the dining table, and Andrea rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. Tahlia's standard birthday flowers her dad's assistant sends to her every year."

"But she don't even like flowers!" bristled Daryl and Andrea's brows shot up.

"No," she said curiously, suddenly wondering if Daryl had excellent attention to detail in general, or if it was more that he had excellent attention to details of Tahlia. "She doesn't like flowers. But her dad wouldn't know that. And to be honest, I'm not entirely sure that he even knows his assistant sends them. Anyway, bathroom's that way." She pointed to a corridor on the other side of the living area. "If you hit Tahly's bedroom, you've gone too far. I'll just go grab my things." She disappeared down the corridor directly in front of them, past the kitchen to her own bedroom, and Daryl headed the opposite way.

Passing the bathroom, Daryl kept going to the room at the end.

The door was open and hesitantly, he stepped inside, immediately breathing in the scent of Tahlia in the air, something sparking inside him like a chemical reaction. He felt a little uncomfortable about being in her personal space without her knowledge, but he couldn't deny the pull of desire to see what her personal space looked like.

The room was a decent size, tidy, but not obsessively so, the bed pride of place in the center under the large windows, plush blankets and pillows making it look very inviting. Book-laden shelves crowded the far wall, but that didn't surprise him – she and Merle had at least one book-related conversation every time they saw one another. A desk against the opposite wall was littered with textbooks and papers - organized chaos, and above that, a collage of photographs showcasing smiling faces and happy times tacked to the wall, and higher still, string lights hanging along the ceiling line. A few pieces of art were dotted around the room – his favorite: a drab grey watercolor of a drizzly city evening, the vibrant splash of a woman wearing a bright yellow raincoat in the center, dancing in the puddles.

The whole vibe was laid-back and soft and warm. Like her.

It was easy to imagine her shedding off the day here, flopping onto the bed as music played from the speakers in the corner; easy to imagine her snuggled under the blankets in the early hours of a stormy morning all sleep-soft and dream-heavy; easy to imagine her hunched over the desk, immersed in a case, pen between her teeth and concentration between her brows.

Daryl sighed and rubbed at his temples with his thumb and forefinger.

He wished he wouldn't do that.

Color in pictures of her life in his head.

Wished he had some semblance of control over the amount of her in his brain.

Moving to the bed, he emptied out his plastic bag and quickly rearranged the contents, stepping back once to scrutinize his efforts and make a couple of adjustments.

Then, careful not to really look at anything on the desk in case it was confidential, he tore a piece of paper from a notepad and penned a brief message before setting that on the bed, too.

With one last sweeping glance around the room and one last moment of wonder at this unfamiliar side of himself that she elicited, he puffed his cheeks out in a long breath and shook his head and headed out to the lounge to wait for Andrea.

Streetlights cast yellow puddles onto quiet pavements as Tahlia made her way home in the late hours of the evening.

She felt calm, crisp, cleansed, the way she always did after paying tribute to her sister, long gone but never forgotten; after slowing down for a day to appreciate the fullness of her life and the simple pleasures of a beautiful world around that were so often overlooked in the rush of the everyday.

Andrea had sent her a message to let her know she was staying at Merle's, so arriving back to the dark stillness of their apartment was no surprise, and she languidly flicked light switches as she made her way to her room.

Then, she stopped short in her bedroom doorway, her handbag falling to the ground at her feet as she stared at her bed, her eyes widening and a soft 'o' forming on her lips as a flush of giddy warmth rushed through her body and a burst of butterflies took flight in its wake.

There, just below her pillows, lay sheets of newspaper that had been roughly shaped into a large cone, the bottom tied with string, the top stuffed with an assortment of candy bars. And, lying next to it in the same scrawl she recognized from the notes on her car, a message:

The only bouquet that makes sense.

Happy birthday.