Work Text:
It was far past nightfall in The Commonwealth; the sun had disappeared and left starry mixes of black and purple hues above, the only sound being the humming of a junky, decades-old air conditioning down the hall in the living room and the occasional clomp of footsteps from the apartment above.
Everybody in the apartment was fast asleep, and while the suffocating summer heat and shitty conditions of their new home were difficult to endure, they were making it work– the previously mentioned air conditioner was a wonderful source of a white-noise lullaby.
Well, maybe not everybody was fast asleep.
Two hours ago the place had gone quiet after Daryl finished dinner, storytime, and tucking RJ and Judith into bed with a side of forehead kisses and mumbled affections. He dragged himself to his own bedroom minutes after to welcome slumber with open arms, eyes closed before he even made it to his mattress.
God, that mattress– for the slums of The Commonwealth, they sure had some good goddamn beds. It worked wonders on his back and the muscle strain he took on during his daily training with Mercer, and he managed to sleep like a baby every evening.
That afternoon had been particularly rough; he had aggravated the old wound he had gained from his battle with Alpha and the pain had not stopped throbbing since, worsening his usual slight limp and stiffness. He had been waiting all day to just crawl under the sheets and catch some much-needed shut-eye, and he did so as soon as the kids were asleep. What he hadn't anticipated was that just an hour into his rest he would be startled awake by the creak of his bedroom door opening, followed by a small voice calling out in the darkness.
“Uncle Daryl?”
His heart skipped a beat at first, eyes jolting open. “Hmm?” Out of habit, Daryl reached for his knife on the bedside table, gripping it tight as he stared into the doorway in an attempt to decipher the figure that stood there before him. Once his eyes adjusted, he found familiarity in the small frame the voice belonged to, then in the long, ratty bedhead of hair, and lastly, in the plush rabbit stuffed in her arms.
“Asskicker? Wha’s goin’ on?” Daryl’s southern drawl grew thicker the sleepier he was, so his accent was on full display at that moment. He placed the pocketknife back where it was and rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes, forcing himself upright and resting his weight on his elbows.
Daryl could see Judith shaking, even in the lack of light it was plain as day. “I had a—” Judith stopped abruptly before allowing the words to leave her lips, swallowing the lump forming in her throat. Daryl listened to her breathe deeply, almost as if afraid to reveal the truth. “I… I can’t sleep. Can I stay with you tonight?”
In that moment, watching his girl stand there scared shitless, needing somebody, Daryl was reminded of the little boy he used to be; afraid of his own shadow– or rather, his father’s shadow.
Daryl was a mama’s boy through and through, and after her passing, he was deprived of the only love he had ever known. He lost his person for comfort, his person for hope, and any showing his soft side around Merle or their father typically resulted in a black eye and frantic attempts at hiding bruises. He was on his own for any nightmare aftermath, and right now, that little boy’s fear was all he could see.
“Yeah, ‘course ya can,”
He moved over to make room for Judith on the mattress, raising the covers and allowing her to crawl beside him. As he set the blankets over her, Daryl felt Judith cling to his chest with a grip so tight he was afraid her fingers would snap. Her head burrowed into his sleep shirt, and Daryl was fast to wrap his arms around Judith, desperate to provide any reassurance to whatever fear-filled adrenaline she was coming down from.
Judith whined as he pulled her close, curling her knees into her stomach. Daryl couldn’t watch; it hurt seeing her so afraid. “Hey, hey, you’re alright, s’alright. I gotcha, I promise.” He cooed, running his fingers along her scalp, shushing her softly. “You’re safe, ain’t nothin’ gonna hurt ya in here,”
At first, Judith said nothing, and Daryl wouldn’t push if she didn’t want to talk. He simply laid with her, fingers twirling her hair, hoping it could lull her back to sleep. Eventually, though, her muffled voice broke the silence.
“I miss my mom. I miss her a lot.”
Judith paused as her voice grew shaky, but Daryl waited. He knew she needed to let it out. “I miss her hugs, she gave really good hugs. I miss knowing that she was safe, I miss knowing that I was safe with her,” Daryl remembered finding out Michonne had left to help people she had met, and how afraid Judith was to tell him. He couldn’t promise her that he wouldn’t leave, but he would always promise to keep her safe. “Not that I’m not safe with you, I know I am, I just…”
When she trailed off, Daryl expected the conversation to shut down, for Judith to lock it away again, but he was grateful when her sleepy words reached his ears. “Whenever I couldn’t sleep, she would talk to me. She would tell me about Carl and Dad, and she would make up stories about a boy named Andre. She would sing to me mostly though; she would let me take up all the space in her bed and she’d sing until I fell asleep. I miss that.”
Daryl would never admit it, but goddamnit, it broke his heart. He hated that his asskicker had to endure this kind of pain, especially so early in her little life. He wasn’t even sure how to properly respond to what she had confessed. “Think you can sleep a little?” Daryl felt her shoulders shrug. “Why don’ you try and if you can’t we’ll find something to do, don’t torture yourself ‘cause you’re awake,”
Judith nodded, nuzzling her head further into Daryl’s chest, letting out a content sigh as her eyes squeezed shut. She was still trembling, and Daryl knew they’d get nowhere if she was still this wound up from her dream. He replayed what she had told him, trying to pick out something manageable from what Judith said Michonne usually did during times like these. Many stories he carried of Rick and Carl were told almost religiously by the group, and he assumed tales of Merle’s past antics were not necessarily bedtime stories, but there was one thing he could try.
“I keep a close watch on this heart o’ mine, I keep my eyes wide open all the time”
Daryl’s voice was a bit rough, but the man could carry a tune no doubt. It seemed almost uncharacteristic of Daryl to claim himself as a Johnny Cash fan back before the world fell, but something about his songs, his lyrics, just seemed to draw him in. Maybe it was because of the Johnny Cash: Greatest Hits album he had spotted in the Commonwealth’s record store that the singer was back on his mind, maybe it was spur of the moment, but all he knew was the words were rolling off his tongue before he realized it.
“I keep the ends out for the tie that binds, because you’re mine, I walk the line”
When he saw Judith’s tiny smile peek through, Daryl couldn’t help but smile too. He watched her eyelids flutter shut and a yawn rang out, signaling he was reaching his goal. Daryl untangled his fingers from her hair and placed a hand on her arm, rubbing his thumb in a back-and-forth pattern.
“I find it very, very easy to be true, I find myself alone when each day's through”
As he came close to the end of the song, not failing to hum the instrumentals included in the three-minute masterpiece, Judith’s breathing became evened out and she rested limp against his chest, finally having fallen back asleep.
“Yes, I'll admit that I'm a fool for you. Because you're mine, I walk the line”
Daryl glanced down at Judith, blinking back tears over how serene she seemed snuggled in his arms. With the last line sung, the sleep he desperately longed for came back for him. As his eyelids weighed down and he groaned of exhaustion, Daryl pressed his lips to the crown of Judith’s head and nestled into his pillow.
“Goodnigh’. Love ya, Jude,”