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Words: 4,311 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, Post-Negan (roughly S9) Warnings: mentions of injury, gore, allusions to past trauma (no details, no specifics), MAJOR FLUFF ALERT, UNCLE DARYL WARNING Summary: Y/N knows the perfect way to distract Judith when she can’t sleep—telling fanciful stories about how she got all her scars. Eventually, word gets back to Daryl. A/N: Jude scolding grown ass Daryl is everything I needed today

Your name: submit What is this?

“Auntie.”

It was just a gentle whisper, but it sent you rocketing up in bed, your heart pounding hard. “Jude? Are you okay?”

Judith is standing at the side of your bed in her pajamas. “I can’t sleep,” she says matter-of-factly. “I miss mom and dad.”

You toss the covers away to expose the empty space beside you. “Is RJ sleeping?” you ask as she climbs into your bed. She nestles up against you immediately, facing in toward your body, her little hands reaching out for you. She nods.

“He never seems to have trouble sleeping,” she whispers. You can feel her warm breath against your neck. You smile and cover her over with the blanket.

“He’s little,” she says. “It’s easier to sleep when you’re little.” You can feel her fingers tracing the scooped neck of your tank-top.

“You’re right about that,” you agreed. “Less to worry about.”

“I worry about a lot of things,” Judith said. Her fingers moved to your shoulder and then traveled down your upper arm, following a long thin scar there.

“Do you want to talk about them?” you asked her.

She paused thoughtfully, her little fingertips still for a moment, before she shook her head. “No.”

“Okay,” you said, hugging her more tightly. “That’s okay.”

“Will you tell me again how you got this one?” Judith said, a smile already forming on her face. Her big dark eyes shown out in the dim light of your room and you smiled back. She traced the length of the long, thin scar again.

“Alright,” you said. “I was in a bar in a town out west. It was that kind of town that still had the old store shops and tumbleweeds and dust blowing down the main street. Everything just had some mysterious feeling about it. There was an old man at the end of the bar when I stopped in to get a Coke—”

“A Coke?” she repeated skeptically. “I’ve seen you drink beer before! I’m not five.”

You gave her a pointed look, smirking a little. “Do you want to hear the story or not?”

“Okay, okay,” she giggled.

“So. I ordered my Coke. And since the old man looked lonely, I sat down right next to him. We got to talking. He could tell I wasn’t from there of course. It was a small town, one of the ones where you either are related to everybody or go to the same church or something. He asked me why I was there. I told him I was just passing through. I guess for some reason he trusted me, because when I stood up to leave, he slipped a folded, wrinkled piece of paper into my hand and gave me a wink.”

“What was it?” Judith asked eagerly, enthralled by your storytelling.

“I’ll tell you what it was. It was a real, honest to God treasure map.” Judith’s eyes went round and bright. “Mhm. And X marks the spot.”

“There was an X?”

“There was,” you continued. “Only problem was that it was in the middle of a lake.”

“What’d you do? What did you think was there?”

“I didn’t know, but I had to find out. So, I rented a boat. And I rented a wet suit and some SCUBA gear—” Here, Judith interrupted you with a giggle. “What’s so funny?” you asked her, trying to hide a grin.

“You don’t know how to SCUBA dive!” she said, laughing again.

You tickled her ribs. “How do you know?!” You tried to look offended. “Anyway! I got to the lake and I dropped anchor as close to the exact center as I could. I dove into the water and swam down, down, down, so deep there was hardly any light reaching me anymore. And that’s when I saw it—” you affected a mysterious whisper, “—a hulking mass taking shape as some looming darker shadow in front of me, draped with algae and layers of silt. A shipwreck.”

“Ooh!” Judith exclaimed.

You grinned. “I knew the treasure had to be inside. I swam around the ship until I found an open spot where the hull had rusted away and I slipped in. I explored until I found it—a great metal chest sitting in a small back room.”

“Open it!” she whispered excitedly.

“I grabbed the heavy lid and used all my strength to heave it open! The lid sprung wide and I pointed my flashlight inside and—” you paused dramatically.

“And?!”

“Empty,” you said.

“What?! Noooo!”

“It was entirely empty. Someone else must have found it first. Except—there was one lone coin… of heavy metal, maybe copper, in the very bottom. I grabbed it and turned it over in my hand, brushing away the muck from the detail of the carven face. It was right then when I realized I was getting dangerously low on air.”

“Oh no!”

“I had to hurry if I wanted to make it to the surface safely. I swam as fast I could, but I got disoriented in the dark and had to squeeze through a much smaller opening to get clear of the ship. A jagged piece of metal snagged into my suit and cut down my arm as I rushed out, but I made it. I surfaced and pulled myself back into my boat in a heap, the coin still in my hand…”

Judith grinned at you.

“And that’s how I got this scar,” you said, indicating the one she’d run her finger down.

She traced it again. “Last time you said you got it from training a unicorn. And the time before that it was when you pulled a bank heist,” she said.

“Really? I thought this one was from the bank heist…” you said thoughtfully, touching another scar near your collarbone. “Hmm. That’s strange,” you said, smiling at her with a knowing look. She smiled back. Her eyelids were heavy now.

“Thanks for the story,” she said, yawning.

“Anytime, bug. Are you ready to sleep now?” She nodded, and you tugged her in against you more tightly. The two of you drifted off peacefully and didn’t wake until the morning poured warm light through the curtains.

_ _ _ _ _ _

A few days later

The door to the clinic burst open and Daryl looked up to see Judith coming in with a stern expression on her face.

Daryl sighed heavily and nodded to Rosita who was patching him up. He was sitting bare-chested on a table with a cascade of blood running down one arm. “I think I got it from here,” he drawled to her.

She set down more clean bandages and supplies and Daryl immediately grabbed some gauze and pressed it to his arm. “Are you sure?” she asked, shooting a semi-amused look at Judith, who had now made her way over to stand in front of Daryl with her hands on her hips.

“Yeah, ‘m good. Thanks,” he drawled.

“Alright,” Rosita said, standing up. She touched Judith on the shoulder and shot her a smile as she paused. “You’re coming to us with RJ for dinner tonight, right?” she asked Judith. The little girl was still staring straight at Daryl with a very severe expression.

“I don’t know yet,” she said, not taking her eyes off her uncle. “It looks like I might be on babysitting duty.” Daryl rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath.

Rosita let out an appreciative laugh and shot another look back at Daryl, her eyebrows raised. “Good luck,” she said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Daryl drawled, reaching for the bottle of alcohol. He poured some onto a spare bit of clean cloth and began mopping at his arm. He hazarded a glance back at Judith. “Ya wanna say somethin’?” he asked her, a half-smile quirking one corner of his mouth up.

She shook her head and stared him down. “What have you done to yourself this time?” she demanded, crossing her arms.

Daryl let out another gruff laugh. “My bike got laid down, alrigh’? I ain’t goin’ into detail,” he said. He grabbed a roll of gauze and covered the biggest injury to his arm.

“You really need to be more careful! What would we all do if something happened to you?” she scolded him.

Daryl laughed again and shook his head. “Jude, yer ten. Would ya quit tryin’ to boss me?” he said, hopping down onto his feet. He reached for his shirt.

“Well, am I wrong?” she asked, and this time Daryl heard the real worry and vulnerability in her voice.

He froze with his shirt in his hands for a moment before hurriedly pulling it on and going to kneel down in front of her so they were eye to eye. “Nothin’ is gonna happen to me,” he drawled.

“You don’t know that. You can’t,” she countered. “Look what happened to—to—” so many names were going through her brain she didn’t know where to begin.

He gently gripped her shoulders. “Hey—Nothin’ is happenin’ to me. But even if it did, ya got a whole lotta people who love you and RJ and would take care of ya. Ya know that, right? Ya got a big family who will always look out for ya.”

She nodded, her brown eyes averted down toward the floor now.

“Alrigh’. Gimme a hug. I missed ya,” he said. Judith grabbed him tightly and didn’t let go for a long moment. He hugged her back with everything he had. Finally, she seemed to have forgiven him for getting hurt and she gave him a warm smile. Daryl returned it and straightened up, nudging his head toward the door. “C’mon. Let’s get outta here. Dog’s waitin’ outside somewhere.” Judith led the way.

“Well, what ya been doin’ since I was out, hmm? Ya been good? And RJ?” he asked as they went down the steps side-by-side.

She nodded. “Yeah. We stayed with Auntie Y/N,” she said, glancing up at him with some twinkle in her eye that made Daryl believe she knew more than she should.

And his heart started to whir even just at the mention of your name. He cleared the tightness in his throat. “Oh, yeah? Have a good time?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “But I couldn’t sleep one night, so she let me climb in with her.”

Daryl smiled fondly. That mental image was almost too much to handle. You and Judith both melted him… Shit. So much for trying to deny those feelings. “That help?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah.” She seemed thoughtful for a moment and a brief silence stretched. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and glanced up at him again, squinting a little in the sun. “You know… Y/N has scars too. Kind of like yours,” she said suddenly.

Daryl’s brow furrowed and his stomach twisted. What did she mean by that? “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Judith nodded. “Lots. I ask her about them. She tells me funny stories.”

“What d’ya mean?”

“Well…” she paused thoughtfully again. “She doesn’t want to really tell me how she got them. I’m sure it’s not very nice. Maybe scary. Like how you just wouldn’t tell me why you crashed your bike. So, she makes up funny stories instead.” As usual, Judith was wise beyond her years.

Daryl nodded. “What kinda stories does she tell ya?”

“Just silly ones,” Judith said, turning onto the sidewalk and starting toward where Dog was waiting at the corner, tail wagging furiously. “Unicorns and hidden treasure and stuff. I know it’s not real, but I like it when she tells them. She does it a lot when I can’t sleep.”

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed. He nestled the side of his thumbnail in between his teeth and chewed on it anxiously. You had lots of scars. There was a lot more to you he didn’t yet know, despite all the things you’d been through with the group.

Judith ran ahead and greeted Dog happily and the two ran off down the sidewalk toward Rosita’s.

Later that night, with the kids were nestled safely in bed, Daryl bid goodnight to everyone gathered there and headed into the cool evening. Alexandria was coated in silky deep blues, and he was surprised to find that his feet had led him toward your house instead of his own apartment. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up toward the front door. There was still light inside pooling out of the front windows and he shifted nervously for one moment more before starting up the steps onto the porch and knocking on the front door.

You appeared in a moment with slightly tousled hair and a wrinkled paperback in one hand. “Daryl,” you said with some surprise, but offering a generous smile. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” he said, passing his coat from one hand to the other. “S—sorry, is this too late or uhh—a bad time?”

“No! No, not at all. I just wasn’t expecting you obviously,” you laughed. “Did you want to come in?” you asked, stepping back.

He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously for a moment before nodding. “Sure. Thanks,” he murmured, ducking his head as he brushed past you, almost touching as you held the door open for him. “I, uhh, I—dun really got any reason to—just thought—”

It was then that you saw the bandage on his arm and noticed that he was moving a little gingerly. “God—are you alright? What happened?” you asked. Daryl took in the look of overwhelming concern on your face.

“Ah, it’s—s’nothin’,” he said dismissively, glancing at his arm.

“Daryl—” you said again, moving around him and catching sight of some deep bruising that the bandage didn’t conceal.

“ ‘M fine. I just—had a bit of a bike crash is all… goddamn walker gore all over the road and—”

“You’d better just come in and sit down. Let me see if I’ve got any Advil or something…” You were already wandering away again before he could protest. “You’ll have to tell me all about it!” you called back over your shoulder.

Daryl could only stride after you and try to keep up. “It ain’t bad, really…”

You ignored that assertion. “I can’t find the Advil. But I did find this,” you said, holding up a bottle of whiskey.

Daryl was seated on the couch, perhaps a little stiffly from all his nerves, but at that he tilted his head. “I mean—I ain’t gonna say no,” he drawled, and you laughed. His heart jumped at the sound.

“Yeah, it looks like you had a hell of a day. You deserve it.” You poured a generous amount in two tumblers and came to sit next to him on the couch. “So. Before I make you tell me what happened, any specific reason you came by? Not that you need to have one,” you said with a smile.

Daryl took a big gulp of whiskey and exhaled at the rich burn down the back of his throat. He nodded, staring down into the bottom of his glass and the amber light coming through it. “Nah, I just wanted to come by and say thanks for lookin’ after Jude and RJ, ya know. I know Rosita really appreciated it.”

Your eyebrow quirked up. “Yeah, of course. They have their hands full with Coco anyway. And Eugene,” you joked and shook your head. “You didn’t have to come by to thank me for that. We’re family. And you know I adore them.” You sipped from your glass again.

Daryl was spinning his glass in his hands a little restlessly. “Yeah, I know. But—well, they adore ya too.” You smiled warmly and Daryl felt a flush in his chest that certainly wasn’t 100% the whiskey. “Jude—she really came down on me for this,” he said, gesturing with his injured arm, laughing dryly.

You let out an amused exhale. “I’m sure she did,” you replied, giving him a knowing glance.

“That girl may be only ten but she’s got the sass of a grown up, that’s for damn sure.”

“A girl after my own heart,” you laughed. “Alright, enough avoidance, Daryl. Tell me what happened out there.”

He sighed and shook his hair out of his eyes before drinking deeply to give himself enough courage to meet your eyes. Your cheeks were warm with a rosy hue and your eyes were bright and perceptive. He gulped. “There really ain’t much to tell. I was haulin’ ass tryin’ to get outta somewhere I shouldn’ta been and there was a bunch of—run over walkers and gore and who-the-fuck-knows what else in the road. Wheels just shot straight out sideways as soon as they hit. ‘M fine.”

He hazarded another glance at your expression. Your mouth was pouting in a soft frown and your brow was slightly creased with worry. “Jesus. I’m so glad you’re not worse off, but that isn’t nothing. Did you get taken care of properly?”

He flicked a hand dismissively. “Yeah. Rosita helped patch me up. S’fine.”

“Is this a real ‘it’s fine’ or a Daryl ‘it’s fine’? Those are two completely different categories,” you pressed.

He let out an amused exhale and shrugged. “I dunno. I dun think I get to make that call.”

“No. You don’t,” you agreed. You reached out and gently grasped his wrist, lifting his arm and turning it so you could see the bruising better. He winced as you rotated it and you stopped immediately. Your brow furrowed more deeply. “You caught a hell of a bounce.”

Daryl’s nerves were almost shot just from your fingers on his wrist. He drained the rest of his glass and nodded stoically.

You noticed and took another sip from your own glass. “More?”

He glanced over at you, considering it as you reached for the bottle again. He brushed a hand back through his hair and nervously scratched at a non-existent itch. “Uhh—I pro’bly shouldn’t…”

“Why, you got somewhere to be?” you asked him.

“No, but—”

“You wanna get out of here? Head home? It’s okay. I won’t be offended,” you laughed. “Obviously you had a long couple days out there.”

Daryl hurried to answer and refute that. “No. No, not at all.”

“Alright…” You still were giving him a questioning look.

“I just pro’bly shouldn’t drink too much ‘round ya,” he murmured, ducking his head.

“Around me specifically?” you laughed. “Daryl—what is going on in that head of yours?” You refilled your own glass with a bit more whiskey and set the bottle down on the coffee table beside his empty tumbler, where he could reach it easily if he decided he wanted another drink.

He hazarded a glance up at you, his blue eyes a little shy. “I dun wanna do or say somethin’ that—” he broke off, biting his bottom lip.

Your eyebrow quirked up again and you swallowed another gulp of whiskey. It burned and tingled on your lips. “That what?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, shrugging you off. “I dunno. Never mind,” he murmured. He was avoiding your eyes again.

You set your glass down on the table and the resounding clack was loud in the quiet of the house. “What are you worried about?” you pressed him. “Hey—look at me. It’s just me.”

A small nervous laugh escaped him, and his eyes zipped back over to yours. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, tha’s—kinda the problem…”

You felt something change in the air at that moment. It became thick and heavy and seemed to crackle with electric tension. “I see,” you said softly. You turned on the couch so you were angled more toward him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, nodding.

“Can I kiss you?”

Daryl gulped. His mouth hung partially open for a moment, his brow furrowed. He was sure he’d misheard you. “…what?”

Your lips curved in a small smile. “I asked if I can kiss you,” you said plainly.

Daryl stared at you intensely for a moment. “W—why?” he managed to stammer out. Your smile widened.

“Why? Wow, I really didn’t expect to have to justify myself,” you said. “Because…” you paused thoughtfully and he watched as you pulled your plump bottom lip in between your teeth and released it again after a moment. Jesus Christ, he wanted to kiss you. Why the fuck had he asked ‘why?’ He was mentally kicking himself. “Because I have feelings for you. And I have for a long time. And somehow it just feels right to ask right now.”

“You’ve got feelin’s for me?” he repeated back blankly.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He gulped. Was he dreaming this? Maybe he’d made it back to his apartment and collapsed into bed and this whole entire thing was in his head—you in your sweatshirt and lightly tousled hair, the whiskey, your concern about his injuries—it was all a dream. Right?

Your voice interrupted his swirling thoughts. “Do you have feelings for me? I’ve wondered that for a long time too…”

All he could do at first was nod until he could unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth where it seemed glued. “Yeah. I’ve got—I’ve had feelin’s for ya for—since practically when we first met.”

You smiled at him again, a wide bright one, and his heart leapt in his chest. “So, kiss me,” you said. Your voice was a bit breathy and your eyes happy and dewy. He still hesitated, frozen in some disbelief maybe, so you gently grabbed the front of his shirt and leaned in to press your lips to his. He could taste the bourbon on yours, and it took only a split second for him to reach for you and pull you in against him more tightly, to kiss you back eagerly and almost desperately. You hummed a small noise of pleasure and yielded to his hands and his lips. The heat between you grew and became more insistent. Daryl’s hands gripped your hips and pressed into your back, tracing the edges of your shoulder blades and curve of your spine. His fingertips found the ends of your hair and gently combed in.

Eventually the kiss slowed and became gentle and deep again, and then, suddenly conscious of the surprise that he was kissing you, Daryl pulled back and studied your face. His blue eyes fixed to yours. “This ain’t—is this just the whiskey?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious. His hands were still on you and you didn’t want them to leave. You rested one of yours over his and shook your head, still breathless from the kiss.

“No,” you reassured him. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

He nudged his nose up at you in a nod, still looking a bit nervous. He couldn’t look away now, afraid this whole thing would vanish.

Your cheeks were flushed pink and you laughed. “I am hot now, though,” you laughed. “And I have a feeling that’s partially the whiskey, but mostly you.” You reached for the hem of your sweatshirt and swept it off over your head, tossing it carelessly behind you on the couch. You met Daryl’s eyes again. He seemed to be almost overwhelmed. You leaned in and kissed him again, softly this time.

His hands settled on your now bare upper arms and he felt a ridge beneath his fingertips, barely visible below your t-shirt sleeve. Glancing over, he saw the end of a scar. You noticed him noticing and looked up with a somewhat unreadable expression on your face.

“Unicorn or buried treasure?” he asked.

You laughed and your cheeks flushed even more pink. “Jude told you about that, huh?”

Daryl nodded, his fingers moving lightly against your bare skin. “Yeah,” he said, the corner of his eyes crinkling in a smile. “That kind of thing? Tha’s why I started fallin’ for ya,” he drawled.

You smiled back at him, electricity running over your skin from his touch. The next moment, his face turned serious again.

“She said—” his brow furrowed and a shadow grew on his face. “She said ya have a lot of scars.”

You looked down briefly and then nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“Well, ya already know ‘bout mine. Ya can tell me ‘bout yours when ya want to—or don’t. It dun matter to me. I already—I care ‘bout every inch of ya. Makes no difference how many scars come with havin’ you. Uhh—not that I have ya…” he stammered.

You smiled again. “Yeah, you do.” You moved into him again and rested your head on his shoulder. He could smell your shampoo and his heart fluttered at the closeness. If he did have you, he'd never let go.

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