for those of you who wanted to read the like, 4k words/chapter and a half of the “maybe it’s just us” sequel (i titled it “the road from where we been to where we’re going” in case you were curious) i started two years ago and then abandoned, here you go. i did not edit it, so what you see is what you get (not that that’s any different from anything else i’ve ever written in my life ig):
“I can't change her, she's doing the thing,” Daryl said anxiously over the sound of high-pitched infant cries.
“What thing?” asked Carol. Her body was spent; she couldn't remember the last time she was this tired. She was sore, stitched, and her insides were trying to remember how to take care of one instead of two. From over in the corner, Daryl had their daughter on her back on a desk that was functioning as a makeshift changing table, and from the sounds of it, neither of them were doing that well.
“That flailin’ thing with her arms. She thinks she's fallin’. Shh, shh, baby, it's okay, I ain't gonna drop you, please don't cry.” His voice was so tense and scared, and Carol felt guilty for smiling, thankful his back was to her.
“She's fine, Daryl, why do you think she thinks she's falling?”
“'Cause it's true,” Daryl insisted. “Glenn—there you go, lil’ one, we got that on you, now lemme just figure out all these damn snaps—Glenn told me about it. It's some reflex babies have. When they flail their arms like this it means they think they're fallin’. Sarah even said so, so I know it ain't bullshit—goddamn, why is this thing so hard to snap? Baby, if you stopped kickin’ your legs so much, we'd be done already.”
“You aren't allowed to spend time alone with Glenn anymore,” Carol said, as Daryl finished torturing their child (or was she torturing him?). She took Rose from him and tucked her into the crook of her arm.
Carol hadn't really processed it yet. This baby that had been inside her for the past nine months had been out in the world with them for hours now, and she wasn't convinced it was real.
From the moment she peed on that stick and it glared positive, to as recently as 24 hours ago, Carol hadn't allowed herself to believe that this could possibly end well. She was too old, she figured, too stressed, too downright unlucky. When Daryl told her he wanted to keep the baby, she'd almost been angry; she'd hoped he'd make the hard decision so she wouldn't have to, and when he didn't, she found she couldn't either. How could she look him in the face and say, 'I want to get rid of it,’ when he had so much faith in their ability to do this?
And now they had a baby. In Carol's arms, Rose whimpered, sticking her thumb in her mouth and suckling.
She looked nothing like Sophia. If Carol had a baby picture of Sophia—which, of course, she didn't—and held it up to Rose, she bet no one in a million years would have ever guessed they were sisters. Everything of Carol's that Sophia had, Rose had the opposite. Sophia had had Carol's eyes; Rose had Daryl's. Sophia had had Ed's nose; Rose had hers. There was nothing familiar about looking at Rose, as Carol had both feared and hoped. She had wondered if meeting her new child would be like seeing a ghost, and she almost wished for it, if only because she wanted to see Sophia again.
But Rose wasn't Sophia, and she made sure to demonstrate that clearly. Sophia had been meek and quiet, even as an infant, but Rose was not remotely shy about letting them know when she was displeased.
Like right now, for example, as her tiny whimpers around her thumb turned into full-blown wails. Daryl tensed beside them on the bed.
“What's wrong?” he asked. He had asked that about every new noise Rose had made since birth. He was so much a new parent that Carol would have found it endearing if she weren't so tired.
Rose had tricked them. Just as exhausted as Carol, she had spent her first few hours on the planet in a deep sleep, lulling them into a sense of calm, even granting Carol a bit of a nap, but the second she woke up, she was ready to make demands.
“She's hungry,” Carol said. She'd attempted to get Rose to nurse earlier, but the baby had trouble latching, and was too tired to try that hard, and she was paying for it now, clearly having woken up with an empty belly. Carol maneuvered herself so she could offer her breast to Rose. She moved Rose's hand out of the way, and tried to get her to seek out Carol on her own, but instead she just cried and brought her thumb back to her mouth.
“You can't eat and suck your thumb at the same time,” Carol said, trying not to get frustrated.
When Sophia was born, she had rested on Carol's chest, skin-to-skin, and had latched perfectly on her own within the hour, and it had been a precious bonding moment—a precious bonding moment that Rose was adamantly refusing to have, despite her obvious hunger.
“C'mon kid, this ain't a five star restaurant, you don't get to be choosey,” Daryl said, rubbing Rose's back. Rose screamed bloody murder in response.
“It's right there, if you'd stop crying long enough to see it,” Carol said, trying and failing to not think about how Sophia had snuggled in close to her and had let Carol stroke her hand while she nursed. She had needed her mother right away, so why was Rose fighting her?
After several more minutes of this, Carol was getting overwhelmed. She thrust Rose at Daryl, who took her instinctively, and said, “Take her, please just take her, I need a minute.” She pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes and willed herself not to cry.
“Hey, you okay?” Daryl asked, adjusting Rose in his arms so that he could lean over and put a hand on Carol's shoulder.
“Fine, I'm just tired and wish she'd eat,” Carol said, not uncovering her eyes.
“It's just new to her, she'll get the hang of it,” Daryl insisted. Carol dropped her hands and, looking at him helplessly, said,
“It was never hard with Sophia,” and maybe it was months worth of worry coming to a head, maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was hormones and frustration, or maybe it was the fact that she had been trying to pretend like this wasn't bringing all her grief back to surface, but Carol burst into tears; genuine tears, big, wet, and rolling down her face, and poor Daryl, bless him, was caught between his daughter and his girlfriend, as they both sobbed inconsolably.
“Shit,” Carol heard Daryl mutter. He pulled her to him, and she let him. He wrapped an arm around her tight, and allowed her to bury her face in his shoulder and bawl.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Carol said over and over, voice muffled. She wasn't sure if she was apologizing to Daryl for breaking down, or to Rose for being so shithouse at mothering already.
Daryl was muttering words of encouragement to her, while also trying to shush the fussing baby. Through her tears, Carol heard the door to the Warden's office open and close.
“Everything okay in here?” came Sarah's voice. What a stupid question, thought Carol. Yeah, we're peachy; the baby and I are just sobbing for fun! Ridiculous.
“We're fine,” said Daryl, as Carol tried to get control of herself, taking in deep breaths, but not lifting her head. “Lil’ one is havin’ trouble eating, and Carol's a bit... overwhelmed.”
“Do you need help getting her to latch?” Sarah asked.
“I know how to breastfeed, she just won't do it,” Carol snapped into Daryl's shoulder, harsher than she intended.
“Alright,” Sarah said calmly. “Do you want me to take Rose for a minute to give you a chance to breathe?”
“No,” Daryl said, sounding as harsh as Carol had. She wasn't surprised—he had caught the baby when she was born, and had hardly put her down since. Carol could tell he was reluctant to give her up even when he was passing Rose to her. His protectiveness had gone into overdrive the moment he and Rose met.
“Well,” Sarah said, sounding uncertain. “You know where to find me if you need me. Your friends keep asking for updates, by the way. I'll try and keep them away for a while longer.”
Daryl grunted something in response, and Carol clung to him, hiccuping, but not as hysterical. She waited until Sarah's footsteps went towards the door and she left the room before lifting her head up to look at Daryl.
“Hey,” he said quietly, looking at her with concern. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”
Not especially. What she wanted was to feed her daughter and then sleep for fourteen hours.
“Gotta deal with the baby,” she said.
“She ain't goin’ nowhere,” Daryl said, shifting so he could bounce Rose gently. She continued to cry, and Carol's body physically reacted to the sound, desperately aching to feed her. Carol shook her head.
“I'm just tired and got frustrated,” Carol said dismissively.
“Nah, it's more than that,” Daryl countered. “That was the first time you've said her name.”
Carol's lower lip trembled dangerously. She took a deep breath to steady herself. Of course Daryl would see right through her like glass.
“I feel so guilty,” she said, wincing at the crack in her watery voice. “I told myself I'd treat her like her own person, and already I'm making comparisons. No wonder she doesn't want me. But I don't know how to stop thinking about Sophia.” She let out a singular sob, and Daryl reached out and wiped a tear from her face
“Thinkin’ ‘bout Sophia don’t mean you don't love Rose,” he told her gently. “You miss your little girl, and you're exhausted, and it's bringin’ it all back up. Anyone would lose their shit over it, so don't go feelin’ guilty.”
Carol swallowed hard. “I don't get to lose my shit, I have to be her mother.”
“You lose your shit when you need to. I'm here to pick up the slack.”
“Yeah, well, you gonna breastfeed her, too?” It came out more irritable than joking, but Daryl smiled anyway.
“Nah,” he said. “Imma help you do it, though.” He handed Rose over. Carol was reluctant, not wanting to fail again, but Daryl was calm, and it made her calmer. She lowered the collar of her gown and presented her breast to her screaming daughter once more.
“That damn thumb. Just do that here and you'd be golden,” Carol mumbled.
“You're all tense,” Daryl said. “She don't know nothin’ about what you've lost, and she don't feel any resentment, but she can tell her momma's freaking out and it's freaking her out.”
“Since when are you a lactation consultant?”
“I dunno what that means.”
“When did you become an expert on getting babies to nurse?”
“I ain't an expert in anything havin’ to do with babies, but when you tense up, so does she. Look—her shoulders are all drawn up to her neck. She wasn't doin’ that when she was cryin’ earlier. You're her momma and she can feel it when you're unhappy, so we gotta get you calmer.”
An odd mix of affection and envy washed over Carol. Daryl observed and knew the people he loved so intrinsically that he was already picking up mannerisms on a person who hadn't been alive even a full day yet. Meanwhile, Carol couldn't even get her to do the one thing Rose needed her exclusively for.
“Hum somethin’,” Daryl said with certainty. Carol furrowed her brow.
“You said all the time that whenever there was music she'd go batshit in there. Maybe she likes music.”
“Why don't you hum something then?”
“I don't do music. 'Sides, you're the one she needs right now.”
This was stupid, Carol decided, and Rose seemed to agree, yelling at her, absolutely red in the face. Carol sighed, and hummed the first thing that came to mind. After a few lines, Daryl huffed a breath of puzzled laughter.
“Is that Horse with No Name?” he asked. “Some lullaby.”
“It was on the CD you were playing on that old stereo when you were out skinning those rabbits the other day,” Carol said defensively. “It's been stuck in my head for ages.”
“Nah, don't be, look,” he nodded down at Rose. “She's calmin’ down. I mean, she's still pissed as all get out, but she's settling down. 'Sides, I like that song.”
“The others are gonna think we're torturing her.”
“Tell them you were the one making her cry, or that you were the one crying?”
Daryl snorted. “Whatever makes you feel better.”
Carol smiled a little, feeling lighter. She leaned back against Daryl and continued to hum. Rose's screams fell to cries which fell to whimpers. She opened her big, blue eyes and sought out the sound of the music.
“Oh!” Carol startled a minute later, when Rose finally found her breast and latched on. She turned to Daryl in awe. “How'd you know that would work?”
“I know her,” he said simply. “You do, too, you just got other shit to deal with that makes it harder. Don't you worry, though, I still don't know half the shit I should. You'll be helpin’ me next.”
“That's how it's supposed to be, I think,” Carol said quietly, the room suddenly unfamiliar without the ringing of Rose’s cries. “A partnership. I never had that before.” She ran a hand over the top of Rose's soft head, which was covered in thin, red hair. Now that she accepted it, the baby was now eating like she was famished, and Carol couldn't help but laugh.
“You think she's gonna be this stubborn forever?” Daryl asked.
“You're the one who knows her, you tell me.”
“Nah,” Daryl said, grinning. “She won't be this stubborn. Being part me and part you? She's only gonna get worse.”
Daryl was finally asleep. Carol was beginning to think he was going to try and just stay up forever, for fear of missing a single moment of Rose's life, and frankly, if anyone could pull that off, it'd be him, but alas, it seemed his body finally got the better of him. He was curled on his side, breathing lightly though his mouth, one hand touching Carol's thigh, as though, even in sleep, he had to make sure she and Rose were within reach. She'd have to address that eventually, before his protectiveness got smothering, but for now she appreciated it. It felt nice to be so deeply loved.
Unlike her father, Rose was not asleep, but she wasn't fussing, either. She was alert in Carol's arms, taking it all in. Carol watched her, trying to see the things Daryl saw. Mostly, she just thought about how difficult it was gonna be to wean her from thumb sucking, since Rose seemed to have some magnetic attachment to the damn thing.
It hurt more than she wanted to admit, having Rose and not having Sophia, and as much as Daryl tried to tell her otherwise, she felt crushing guilt, because Rose didn't deserve to live in the shadow of a ghost. Carol loved this new little girl so much. She was bright-eyed and beautiful, and Carol could see the subtle hints of Daryl in her facial expressions already, and that was both heartwarming and hilarious, to see a newborn look so grumpy.
But Sophia refused to leave Carol alone—she lingered, haunting her with memories of what she'd been and what she could have become.
Carol knew Sophia hadn't been built for this world, and she was confident Rose could survive it, because this was her world; it was the only thing she would know. That didn't mean it didn't hurt, though. If anything, it only made the cuts go deeper still.
“I'm gonna tell you my biggest secret right now so we start this relationship out with all the cards on the table, okay?” Carol whispered to Rose. Rose's eyes darted towards her, and watched as though she were truly paying attention. Carol said, “I'm a little broken, and I'm gonna make mistakes.
“You had a sister, and a part of me is always gonna be buried with her, but the rest of my heart is all yours. I don't want you to ever think I love you less, or wish you were her, because I don't, and I won't. I want you for exactly the person you are. But sweetheart, I'm gonna hurt sometimes, and I won't always be able to be the mother I want to be, but in those moments, you can't ever think it's because of you. You're the one who's always going to bring me back. You and your father, you're everything.
“I've made bad choices—far too many—but you are not one of them, Rose. You were a hard decision I will never regret. You are wanted, you are loved, and most importantly, you are you, and don't ever think I would change that for the world.”
Carol held a finger to Rose's free hand, and a tiny fist wrapped around it. They locked eyes, blue on blue, and Carol finally saw her new daughter for the very first time.
Cooing. There was so much cooing. Everybody was fucking cooing, and they were passing Rose back and forth like a football, and Daryl was going to lose his mind.
“Relax,” Carol said in his ear. He scowled. By the time dawn came, the two of them could no longer delay the inevitable—their family was demanding to meet the newest addition. Which, sure, fine, whatever, but did that mean they all had to hold her? Daryl's arms felt unbearably empty as he watched Glenn with suspicion while he rocked Rose to-and-fro.
“She's got your grouchy face look down pat,” Glenn said. “Good to know your newborn daughter is just as impressed by me as you are.”
That made Daryl feel a little better.
“I think she looks like Carol,” Maggie said, taking Rose from Glenn and cradling her. “In the nose and mouth, at least. Those are definitely Daryl's eyes.”
“I can't believe she's a ginger,” Beth giggled, peering over her sister's shoulder.
“How are you feeling, Carol?” asked Michonne.
“Exhausted,” she said with a tired smile. “But happy.”
“Sarah said the birth went perfectly; didn't need me at all,” Hershel said.
“All things considered, it couldn't have gone better,” Carol agreed. “But don't ask me about it until I've had a bit of time to repress the memory of the pain.”
“I didn't make it to five centimeters before I was screaming for drugs, I’m impressed,” said Michonne.
“How's it feel to be a dad, Daryl?” Rick asked.
It was the best thing he'd ever been, and he'd really like to have his daughter back so he could get back to parenting, thank you very much.
“Don’t let him fool you. He held a piss in for two hours because he didn't want to leave her. Did you know he was the one who caught her? I'm sure he's about to have an aneurysm from you all holding her, but is too polite to say,” Carol said, smiling sweetly at him.
“Ain't too polite. You told me I wasn't allowed to yell at nobody for touching her.”
“I was trying to keep that fact between us.”
“Should we give her back now?” asked Maggie, grinning.
“No, you haven't all had a chance yet. Michonne? Carl?”
“We ain't letting Carl hold her, he's just a kid.”
“Daryl,” Carol said flatly. “He holds Judith all the time.”
“I feel sorry for anything, walker or otherwise, that tries to threaten this kid,” Glenn said, running a hand over Rose's soft head. “Daryl is so possessive he'd rip them so many new assholes until there was nothing left.”
Daryl blew a thin breath of air through tight lips as Rose was handed over to Carl. It was a testament to how much he loved Carol that he hadn't already leapt up from the bed and stolen his child back.
“If looks could kill, you'd be obliterated right now,” Glenn told Carl. Carl glanced up at Daryl and blanched. Daryl, not realizing quite how murderous he must look, tried to rearrange his face into something in the neighborhood of encouraging. More than likely he just looked pained, but that was the best they were gonna get.
“Do you think Rose and Judith will get along?” asked Carl. He held his index finger out and Rose wrapped her entire tiny hand around it. Daryl's lip twitched up, just the tiniest bit, in spite of himself.
“They gotta, or it's gonna be real exhausting for them to live together,” he said.
“I bet they'll be best friends,” Michonne said.
“You and Glenn should have a baby,” Beth said to Maggie with a shit-eating grin. “Then they'd all be close together in age.”
“Maybe,” Maggie said, glancing at her father, who appeared a little conflicted, but didn't object.
“Judith and Rose would probably team up and pick on our kid,” Glenn said. That actually made Daryl snort. Glenn glared at him. Daryl just shrugged.
“Okay, let me see her before Mr. Grouchy over there banishes us,” said Michonne, taking her turn. She smiled a sad sort of smile at Rose. It was the same smile Daryl had seen both her and Carol make at Asskicker. It was a smile that read of bittersweetness; of love and loss at the same time.
Daryl had been a parent for roughly a day, give or take, and already he couldn't fathom the idea of losing that baby. He'd known Carol had hurt when Sophia died, and he could hear the pain in Michonne's voice whenever she mentioned her lost child, but he never really understood how deep that suffering must go. Just the mere thought of losing Rose gutted him—how did these two women get up every day with holes that big?
Rose began to wriggle around in Michonne's arms, and started to fuss a little, which Daryl was quickly learning was her way of warning them she was about to get mad. Despite who her parents were, that kid had no qualms about letting everyone know how she was feeling, loudly and with gusto.
“Sounds like she's telling us it's time to let her be with mom and dad,” Michonne said over Rose's cautionary whimpers. She handed her over to Daryl, who felt instant relief as soon as Rose was in his arms again.
“She's hungry,” Carol said apologetically. “She had trouble eating there at the beginning, but now that she's got the hang of it she acts like she's famished.”
“We'll give you some privacy, then,” said Rick, ushering everyone towards the door.
“We'll probably go back to our cell later tonight. We've just been too tired to bother,” Carol explained.
“We understand,” Maggie told her.
“Congrats, you guys,” said Glenn.
They all said their goodbyes, with Carol saying them back, but Daryl was distracted. Rose was staring up at him with a pouty lower lip, and in that instant the literal only thing he wanted was to make her happy again.
“You gotta feed her so she stops looking at me like that,” Daryl said to Carol before the door to the office had even been fully closed.
“Like what?” Carol asked, reaching out to take the baby, and pulling out her breast in a way that already seemed habitual.
“She's not sad, she's just hungry,” Carol said with a light laugh, propping Rose up on a nursing pillow Daryl had gotten back on that run to the birth center.
“She cries about it, though.”
“Daryl. Babies cry about everything. It's how they communicate.”
He knew that, of course, but he didn't like it. If it were up to him, Rose would never want for anything. He wanted to anticipate her every need so she never felt uncomfortable or scared or sad. He wanted her to be happy.
What a horrifying thought.
Daryl anticipated his role as a parent to be about providing—providing food, shelter, safety—but he never once entertained the idea that it would be up to him to provide his daughter with happiness.
“I don't know how to make her happy when everything except you and her is bullshit,” he said. Carol frowned at him.
“Daryl, I told you she's fine, she just needs—”
“I don't mean right now,” Daryl interrupted. “I mean for the rest of her life, how do I give her what she deserves? Even if the world weren't the way it is, I ain't never been happy. Not before her; before you.”
Poor Carol, thought Daryl, having to deal with him running his mouth over abstract fears so soon after walking barefoot through the fires of Hell to bring an entire human being to life. To her credit, she spared him of exasperation. As always, she showered him with kindness he didn't feel entitled to. She said,
“No one is happy all the time. If they were, then happiness would have no meaning. There are going to be times when you're going to have to do the worst thing you can imagine.”
“What's that?” Daryl asked, anxiety mounting.
“Sometimes, you're going to have to let her be unhappy.”
