It was late; after midnight kind of late. The kind of late at night when the moon was at it's peak and everything was at peace. Except for him.
As you layed beside him in the bed, the one layered with powder blue sheets and a large soft white wool blanket, he tossed and turned.
Unable to shut his eyes without ending up seeing something he didn't want to see.
Turning on his side, he watches how easily you can sleep. The way your eyelids flutter softly as you dream, and the way your hand that is graced with your wedding band holds onto him loosly.
You wear comfortably one of his large shirts, drifting down on you as it's a size or two too large. But the smell it holds lulls you to sleep.
He watches the way your hair drifts over your face, and spreads out on the pillow. The way he can still smell the strawberry shampoo you used early yesterday morning.
He sleeps in just a pair of sweatpants, seeing no need for a shirt on a hot summer night. Leaving the windows in the bedroom cracked as night brings in the nice cool breeze.
Also bringing in the scent of fresh air and letting it mix with the lavender fabric softener that somehow floats to every room.
Tossing back onto his back, he stares at the ceiling. Wanting nothing more than to be able to fall asleep, to hold you close and get some rest.
So slowly and carefully, he slips out of bed. Trying to keep the mattress from moving too much and avoiding certain noisy floorboards as he walks to the bathroom.
Leaving the door cracked, and turning on the less bright of the two lights. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the sudden hit of light, his hands grip the edges of the sink.
Looking up slowly, he stares at his reflection in the mirror before him.
The man in the glass shows a man who looks tired, who looks overtaken by something. The man looking back at Daryl is covered in scars, his skin forever marked by his past.
It isn't till he looks away and down at his hands that he sees how tightly he's holding the sides of the sink. His knuckles turning white from the pressure.
Releasing them, he lets out a deep breath.
"Same dream?" Your voice startles him, as you push open the bathroom door just a bit farther.
"Oh uh yeah," Stuttering he answers you, still taken back by your sudden presense. "go back ta bed."
Leaning your head against the wooden frame you stare at him, "Why don't you talk to me?"
Daryl turns now, to look at you more properly. "I talk to ya."
You snort, letting out a short laugh. "Yes you do, bout hunting and squirrels. And about every run, and every cute thing you see in a store for our baby."
Rubbing your growing belly, you stare at him more seriously now. "But you hardly ever talk to me about, you know, the deep things. The things that really matter."
Daryl watches your facial expressions for a moment before saying something. "Don't know what ye mean by deep."
"You do too Daryl," You snap slightly, resting your hands on your hips. "every night for the past two weeks you've been having trouble sleeping. Getting up every night, never falling back to sleep."
"And I don't know what goes on in that head of yours," You point out shaking your head. "but I have a feeling it has something to do about our baby. Ever since we learned the gender three weeks ago, you barely talk about it with me."
"I do."
"You ask if I feel fine, or if I need anything. If the kicks are bad or if my cravings are gone yet. You don't just sit and talk about this baby like a--"
"Like a father?" Daryl asks, and that's the moment you piece it all together.
"It's because it's a boy." You say. Not as a question, but as a statement.
Daryl doesn't say anything.
"That's what's been keeping you up at night?" You ask him in a hushed tone, walking towards him.
And for what is probably only the third time in the entire span of your relationship, Daryl breaks.
Letting out a breathy sigh, you can hear in his voice the tears that are screaming to be let free.
"My dad, he--" Cutting him off as you watch him let the tears finally begin to fall.
"Was a cruel man. He wasn't a father to you, to Merle. He wasn't someone who deserved a family."
He looks up at you finally, through his dark tear coated eyelashes. "What if I'm the same way?"
"What way?"
"Someone who don't deserve a family."
Your mouth opens slightly, feeling a pounding of heartbreak inside your chest. Every tear that rolls down his cheek burns into you like acid, unable to stop it.
"Daryl," You whisper, reaching up and cupping his cheek. Feeling his lean into the touch. "you know that that isn't true. That you aren't like your father. Not one bit."
"Do you? Do you really know that?"
"I do." You say it instantly, not a second delay nor a pause. Right away.
"I know that the man in front of me, is a good good man. A man who is brave and a fighter. A man who loves wholeheartedly and gives his all to the people he loves. You're the kind of man who stands up for the right things even when it's all going wrong, and the kind of man who knows his beliefs and stands by them."
"I know that the man who stands in front of me, the man I married, the man I love with all that I am; will be a father who loves and protects his child at all costs. Who spoils and cherishes him everyday and I know you Daryl, to know that you will never lay a hand on this child."
Telling him all this, causes him to cry harder. Allowing his body to release all the emotion he's bottled up for months.
"Ye believe that?"
Smiling you kiss his forehead, the feel of your lips lingering on his warm skin. "I know that."
"Come on," You say wrapping your arms around him. "lets get you back to bed."
Back in the bed, tangled up together, it was the first night in weeks Daryl slept without fear, without out doubt of his abilities in fatherhood. It was the first time in months he slept just as soundly as you.
A/N: I have to admit I teared up writing this a bit!!❤
