"Hey kiddo," Harry says and Carl whips his head feeling sheepish as he takes in the raised brow of his uncle who is leaning against the tree he is sitting under.

"Hey," he says and looks back down at the hat he had been fiddling with, the fresh wrapping from Dr. Jenner did earlier is a small discomfort as sits trying not to pull the stitches too much.

Harry hums, crouching in front of him, the tattoos crawling up his arms revealed by the rolled-up sleeves of his sweater, "You okay, I know it was intense. I know I'm gonna be having nightmares for a while just thinking of the chains not holding up while we were unaware."

Carl blinks up at him blankly.

Harry sighs, "Okay, yeah that's not helping."

"I just don't want you to think you have to be brave all the time." His uncle says with an awkward grin.

"I know I am scared every day." He whips his head up in surprise.

"You! Scared?" Carl says, shaking his head. It's incomprehensible because to him Harry is the pillar of determination and bravery.

Harry gives him a fond look not matching the conversation at all, "Of course I am."

"I am scared I will wake up and you all will be gone. I'm scared that I won't be enough to stop this terror from affecting the people who are irreplaceable and invaluable to me."

Harry sits beside him.

"I am afraid that I won't be enough." He says leaning against the tree.

At that Carl scoffs and reaches to drag Harry's tattooed hand and grips it so he knows he's serious, "That's stupid, you're not alone. You don't have to be enough, that's what family is for."

Feeling shy under the intense gaze of Harry he looks down at the hat in his lap.

"You always said that I can come to you when I can't figure something out, so why don't you come to us when you need help?" He says looking up and feeling panic at the sight of his uncle's eyes watering.

Did he not say the right thing, maybe he should have said Harry can handle anything.

"Uncle?"

Harry shakes his head with a watery laugh and gently pulls Carl into a hug kissing the top of his head and sending a pulse of healing magic to soothe the aches and speed up the healing. "Sorry, you're right I'm being ridiculous, I have you after all."

Carl feels a grin creep up and a swell of pride, cause he knows Harry doesn't do platitudes and means what he says.

"Damn right!"

"Language." Harry chides halfheartedly.

Harry stands and holds out his hand, "Wanna go see if Sophia and her momma are doing okay?"

"Crotch goblin? Seriously Merle." Harry waits until he sees the tank top-wearing man taking a big gulp of water, he can augment some more out of sight if it comes to it.

Coughing Merle turns to him, "What the fuck man!"

Harry might be regretting the decision to make him spray water, as the marine still has his sturdy body from the regiment, if only a little bit softer than his youth. The ripples of his chest and abdomen are revealed through the water dripping down the man's face.

Harry doesn't see the smug grin that spreads across his face as Merle sees the flush creeping up his face since he looks away to gain his breath.

"Let me see your wrist." He mumbles looking back and holding out his hand.

Merle has a shit-eating grin on his face as he lifts the stump wrapped in cloth, Harry gently curls his fingers around the less sensitive area just under the injury letting a pulse of soothing magic spread through the man's skin.

"I think I figured out how to recreate an artificial hand." He murmurs, hearing the other's breath hitch he looks up making sure to keep his expression determined in the face of such broken hope.

"Yah can?" Merle whispers like he let himself believe it wouldn't come to be. He nods, not knowing what to say, or how to explain it properly.

"It won't be a regular hand but it will still work normally," he warns only to get a scoff.

"It can look like a robot for all I care I just miss wanking off with my dominant hand." And Harry laughs despite himself.

"Seriously," he says shaking his head.

"What, you can't tell me you haven't been wanking it?" And in his silence, the big man steps closer.

"Ya haven't huh?" The octave of his voice makes him shiver.

Merle leans in and presses his lips to his ear and Harry has to blink as his brain short circuits, "Need a little help with that Harry." And Harry gasps as the man nuzzles into his neck.

"Merle," he breathes, reaching up to cup the man's chest, his fingers curling over a battle scar from Merle's tours.

"My Pretty," Merle purrs into his neck, curling his arms around Harry's waist and pulling his smaller body against him.

"This okay?" He hears Merle ask him, and it's only when he feels the other start to retreat he quickly slides his hands hip the man's chest and curls his arms around his neck stopping him from leaving, the warmth is so nice.

"I got you," Merle promises into his skin and Harry feels his legs grow weak and his breath stutters as the unspoken promise is made, he doesn't realize how much he needs Someone to rely on until this moment.

"Daryl?" He asks wondering how the other will feel about this.

Merle leans back and gives him the most humorous grin, "You got two Dixons waiting for you to say yes."

He gapes in shock, "B-both of you. I- why? I mean I'm just me?"

"Exactly," Merle says and leans down to give him a chaste kiss on his forehead.

"We'll be waiting, however long you take sugar tits." The man calls, ruining the moment and acting like he didn't just tilt Harry's axis.

Coming to his senses he shouts, "What about your hand?"

The man waves his good arm dismissively, "Later I want a nap."

"Old man." He mutters still flustered.

"Heard that brat!" And Harry does not flush at the term.

Daryl can feel the tension in the camp as he returns, a deer slung over his back, he didn't notice until halfway through the hunt, but Harry must have spelled the leather jacket to silence his footsteps and mask his scent because he had a much easier time sneaking up on his game this time.

He wants to run his fingers over the hem of the leather and wonders how much more will Harry give him, and how can he return the favor. The clever magic man already spelled a couple of his arrows to return to his holster after being fired.

After setting his accomplishment on the ground he decides he's too tired to mess with the kill at the moment and looks in the tent to see his brother sleeping still. He must have had a bad day with his withdrawal.

Kicking the dumbass in the thigh he is rewarded with a glare, "Get up, and prep my game." At the withering look, he grunts and resists the urge to kick his boots off and sleep.

"I'm too fucking tired and it won't last forever," he says and exits the tent.

He sees Sophia and walks up to the tiny girl, making his way over to the girl he makes his presence known, "Hey chickie, you know why everyone looks like a skunk farted?"

He feels vindicated when the girl's tense expression breaks into a tiny laugh.

"Mr. Daryl, that's nasty!" She wrinkles her nose.

He waves his hand, "Just Daryl, Mr. Makes me feel old."

"But ain't you old?" She asks and he scowls playfully.

"Little snot," he grumbles, enjoying the sound of her giggles. It's way better than the geeks he had to kill.

"Well, missy?" He asks.

She shrugs, "Mr. Rick and they brought back a boy he went to school with Maggie."

Daryl tenses, "Ah, well I'm sure it's nothing we can't handle."

She looks up at him innocently, "Cause we have Harry."

"Cause we have Harry," he agrees, ruffles her hair, and leaves her to her thing, not realizing he did it until he's already a few feet away.

He catches Harry pacing on the porch and calls to the man, seeing him running a tattooed hand over his face, "Hey?"

"What's with all the noise I heard and why do you look like someone pissed in your breakfast?" He asks.

Harry gives him a relieved smile, and his face flares up when he notices Daryl wearing the leather, Daryl himself feels his ears warm, "You like the perks." Harry asks with a grin, his earlier frustration faded.

Daryl shifts on his feet, "you gave it to me." And that's all that matters. He feels his body flush under the warm gaze of Harry, there is a difference to the look than it had been, a more intimate one.

Clearing his throat, "So?"

Harry sighs and proceeds to tell him what happened.

Daryl has to blink and shake his head, "We were sleeping right next to them, why would they shoot the-" he stops himself. They are idiots of course they would.

"What's all that?" He nods towards the commotion inside.

Harry sits on the steps by his legs and says, "They brought a random person who they met after engaging with the boy's friends, who were not the most friendly of the bunch."

"They are treating his wound that he sustained while trying to flee, I am not sure any of them will survive if they continue like this." Harry mumbles and leans against Daryl's legs, Daryl himself wills himself not to tense.

He swallows, letting Harry rest his forehead on his thigh and slowly he reaches down and threads his hands through the man's bird's nest, the soft locks silkier than his imagination could conjure.

"We'll figure it out." He says, and he'll make sure nothing happens to Harry, Merle and him both agree that Harry is their first priority over anyone.

A/n:

So, I hope I did the fluff justice.

And we can officially say it's the start of the romance!

How is Harry going to handle the Randal situation?

If anyone has any suggestions or things they want to see in the story please feel free to comment and if it fits I may incorporate it.

Thank you for enjoying T-T