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txladyj-blog · 4 years

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This Time Around - Chapter 21

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx by request of @txladyj-blog

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 26/?

The noise beyond the infirmary door was Carol, who was deliberately making it known that her and Judith were waiting on the porch and didn’t want to barge in on anything. Jess went outside to greet her and in turn, spent a great deal of time giving her a run down of her version of events and an update on Daryl’s condition. She told her about him needing blood and her stepping up to provide it and also added that for now, she wanted to keep that minor detail from him. Her desire to play everything down and keep the dramatics at a low level was with Daryl in mind. The less there was to take in, the easier his recovery would be. They discussed his recovery and the changes that would need to be made, both of them admitting their reluctance to deal with his stubborn complaining. Eventually, Carol convinced an exhausted Jess to head to Aaron and Eric’s place and get some rest and food. Telling her she would sit with Daryl for a while and that Michonne would also be around when her guard shift finished, Jess agreed in the knowledge that he would have someone with him at all times but still had very little desire to leave his side.

From his bed, Daryl could see Jess through the window as she descended the stairs. He wondered when she would be back, not wanting her to spend her every waking moment by his bedside but being unable to deny that he was missing her being near to him already and it had only been 30 minutes since she left the room. He hated the fact that he seemed to be pining, something he thought only lovesick teenagers did. Since when was he so reliant on the presence of another person, let alone a female?

“Hey, you brought Lil’ asskicker” He announced when Carol finally entered the infirmary with Judith pinned to her hip.

“She misses you. She won’t settle for me or Rick much anymore. The only one she listens to is Carl” She said with an air of frustration. Judith was always more complaint with her Uncle Daryl over everyone else, a fact that he felt quietly smug about.

“That true kiddo? You actin up for ya ol’man and Carol?” He asked Judith who immediately decided she was going to act coy and hide in Carol’s shoulder. The change of scenery meant her shy side was activated and she wasn’t sure how to conduct herself when Uncle Daryl looked so different to usual. When Carol lifted her up and planted her on her lap, the child grabbed at Daryl’s hand and played with his fingers.

“How are you?” Carol asked.

“Gettin’ by.” He shrugged. The painkillers were still working their magic but he had done enough Oxy in his time to know that the feeling of contentment was nothing but a visage and soon, it would wear off.

“Jess said you wanted to come home” She mentioned.

“Damn right. Already hate being stuck in here. I know it's gonna be all ‘Don’t do this, drink this, go to sleep’, ain’t good with being told what to do.” He complained.

It was just how Carol expected him to be. It wasn’t in Daryl’s nature to be cooped up with a set of rules to follow. Nor was it like him to let anyone look after him when he was so used to looking out for himself. Her conversation with Jess made it clear that if she had an intention of playing nurse, Jess would soon quash them with her need to see him through his recovery herself. In a way, she was glad, Daryl could be a troublesome patient.

“I knew you’d be pretty mad about that. I got a run down from Jess. She said you’ll be fine with some time and rehabilitation. Sounds positive."

“Guess so. How you doin’ anyways?” He queried with an outright attempt to steer the topic away from himself. Judith was reciting ‘this little piggy’ as she pointed at Daryl’s fingers one by one, her muffle and badly enunciated speech melting into the background as she sang to herself.

“Fine.” She nodded. “Daryl what happened out there?”

There it was, the question he was waiting for. Carol wanted to hear his version for herself and he could have put money on her walking in and ordering him to relay the story from his perspective.

“Ain’t Rick or Jess told ya?” He asked with an exasperated sigh.

“Jess said you got shot trying to save her. Rick said you got shot trying to save Jess.” She relayed impatiently.

“Then that’s what happened.” He grumbled with a shrug

Carol leaned towards him and curled her fingers around his forearm.

“He could have killed you.” She pointed out.

“He was holdin’ a gun to her head, Carol!” He snapped “He was-he was talkin’ all sorts of shit ‘bout how she was a prize find. She just…she looked so fuckin’ scared. I wasn’t gonna let him hurt her. I had to do somethin’.”

Briefly, they both watched Judith, who had taken it upon herself to climb down from Carol’s lap and begin pulling books from a bookshelf. Carol paid her no mind, as long as she was quiet and safe, that was all that mattered. When she turned back to Daryl, he was regarding her with a wary expression.

“You took a bullet for her.” She stated directly. He could always rely on Carol to tell it like it was, no matter how much he didn’t want to hear it sometimes.

“Yeah n’ I’d do it again tomorrow.” Was his equally as clear response.

Carol slowly sat back and half smiled at him. Such a quick confession had come straight from his heart and it only proved what she’d thought all along and she wasn’t about to let it slide this time.

“Are you going to admit that you have feelings for her now?” She wanted to know.

She heard a low growl in his throat as he turned his head away and thudded it back on the pillow. She watched over him, noting the chewing of his lower lip and his shallow breathing. She knew that if she just waited, he would gift her with some kind of answer eventually.

“I don’t know what I feel.” He muttered as he turned back to her “This ain’t never happened to me before.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Judith once more before dragging her chair closer to him, leveling herself with his shoulder.

“Tell me” She coaxed.

Again, Daryl inflicted upon her a long and uncomfortable pause. Highly anxious about being asked such things, he wanted to get up and leave the room, but it was impossible and there was no escape. Accepting his fate, he resigned himself to his only option; surrender.

“She makes me crazy. When she looks at me I just-I ain’t me. I say stuff I would never say to nobody.”

“Like what?”

He shook his head and grumbled under his breath that he didn’t want to talk about it but Carol was not giving up that easily.

“Daryl, just tell me.” She ordered.

“After the party…” He bit his lower lip and sighed, the conflict raging in his mind. He needed another perspective, but at the same time was mortified and confused by the whole thing and felt it best to keep everything to himself. “…ugh, it don’t matter.”

“It does. Once you get this out and talk about it, you’ll feel better. I promise and I’ll never breathe a word to anybody. After everything we’ve been through, you know you can trust me”

Daryl had grown up not needing anyone for anything. He relied on no one but himself and where affairs of the heart were concerned, such rare occurrences were also dealt with alone or not dealt with at all. For the first time in his life, he felt as though he could have used some advice, or at least a listening ear that would take whatever he told her to the grave. She wouldn’t judge and wouldn’t poke fun at him, she wouldn’t get mad or laugh or make him feel like he should know better. It was Carol, his trusted friend and it was about time, after so much trauma that he afforded her the credit she deserved.

“Flirted with her” He mumbled under his breath.

“Well, this is new” she beamed “What did you say?”

“I ain’t tellin’ you that.” He scoffed. Full disclosure was not on the cards and some details needed to remain under wraps.

“Okay. Alright. That’s…that’s good, Daryl.”

“You’re just lovin’ this ain’t ya?” He mumbled.

“Little bit. Not going to lie.” she chuckled “How did she take it?”

“Good. I think. Dunno what got into me. I just kept thinkin’ ‘bout how she liked me before. Y’know, at the quarry? N’ sometimes, when we’re alone she gets all flustered n’ shit. Thought it was my imagination but I don’t think it is. I mean, I don’t know. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. Ain’t got a clue what I’m lookin’ for here.”

With a wider knowledge of hunting than women, Daryl was in uncharted territory. Dangerous waters that could spell the end of his friendship with Jess if it all went wrong. Like he was walking a tightrope, he had been struggling to find the exact, right words to say to her in case it all blew up and he lost her once more. His desire to dip a toe into the minefield of flirting was most definitely a risky one and he wasn’t even sure if his effort had paid off or if they would simply move forward with no mention of it ever again.

“A lot can happen in the months you were apart. But if you want my opinion, she didn’t want you to know who she was when we first got here because she still felt the same about you. You know what she put up with at the quarry and you weren’t in a position to acknowledge that you actually felt something for her. You couldn’t make it OK for her. She didn’t want to feel like she was being rejected again.” Carol explained. She always had a way of clearing things up and adding clarity to what would usually be jumbled up and frustrated thoughts in his head. Moreover, she was right, Jess had put up with a lot at the quarry and he wasn’t able to be there for her like he should have been. Her hidden identity was a defense mechanism. But did it really mean that she still felt something for him?

“I never meant to do that to her. I’d never hurt her.” He said. “The mornin’ we left for the run, she uh, she wanted to know why I flirted with her... straight up. I wasn’t expectin’ that. Asked me if I was drunk or, if it was the dress she was wearin’. Had no idea how I was s’posed to answer.”

Carol’s face had softened to a small smile that she was holding back a little. Her heart swelled with excitement and happiness for him. She’d wanted this for him for a long time after seeing how much of himself he’d given to keeping the rest of the group safe.

“Was it the dress?” she smirked

“No.”

“She did look good in it.” She pressed.

“Stop it.” He dismissed. She smirked at him again and nudged his arm

“Fine. Wasn’t just the dress.” He admitted. The dress had some sway, he had to admit that much. But the main push he needed to adopt a more flirtatious tone was her blushing around him, her reaction to his compliments and the same, niggling idea that she still liked him as more than a friend.

“Ha. I knew it.” She grinned. “So, what did you tell her?”

“Just that I was sober n’ it wasn’t the dress.”

“I see. Then I think that’s all you needed to say.” She surmised “This is great, Daryl. You deserve this. You deserve to be happy.”

“Don’t get all excited, ain’t nothin’ gonna happen.”

Judith, having covered the floor in books and deciding that none of them quite matched up to the wonders of the book about the dog that Uncle Daryl read to her, was now hanging around Carol’s legs and trying to climb back up onto her lap. She reached down and scooped up the child, who nestled into the crook of her arm and yawned.

“Are you happy?” Carol asked in a serious tone.

It was nowhere near the linear question that it presented itself as and as far back as he could remember, Daryl wasn’t sure if he could ever pinpoint a time when he was truly happy or if he even knew what happiness was. But Jess stirred something in him and he had a burning desire to be near her. When she smiled, he smiled. Her laugh was addictive and her sense of humor gelled well with his own. He liked how she was her own person and had become independent while still retaining the vulnerability that made him want to protect her. Was he completely happy? He couldn’t say. But there was one thing he was sure of.

“M’happy when I’m with her.”

~ ~ ~

Aaron was talking himself hoarse as Jess darted around his spare room, collecting clothes and ignoring his pleas for her to just stop and get some decent sleep. He promised to wake her, to go and get an update to be relayed upon her waking up and even offered to go to the fairground and get more of her clothes. But all of his kind offers were declined. As soon as Jess stepped foot on the grass verge outside the infirmary, she just wanted to turn back and return to her bedside vigil.

Racing down the stairs, Jess flung her backpack over her shoulder and reached out for the door handle. Aaron positioned himself in between her and her escape route, defiant and bordering on angry. He tugged the bag from her shoulder and dropped it by the door before placing his hands on her weary shoulders and steering her towards the kitchen. Jess didn’t have the energy to put up any kind of a fight and simply let Aaron guide her into another room, where there was spaghetti on the stove and the smell wafted through the room, tempting her stomach into a loud rumble.

Given the information that Eric was on Guard duty and Aaron would be alone for most of the night, Jess halfheartedly sank down onto a dining chair and pushed her food around the plate while re-visiting the events of the past few hours from the beginning in order to answer some of Aaron’s questions. When, on the timeline of events, she reached the real reason why she was so physically drained, she explained that she had been the one to donate blood to replace what Daryl had lost. Aaron expressed that it was a noble and selfless thing to do and that when she did decide to tell Daryl, he was sure he would be eternally grateful. Then. She fell silent and took a sip of her red wine.

“Jess?”

“Mm?” She hummed into her glass before she looked across the table at the kind man she now thought of as her friend.

“You’re supposed to eat that” He remarked with a nudge of his head towards her uneaten food. The steam it emitted when it was first placed on the table was now gone and Aaron was sure Jess was sitting in front of a stone cold plate of pasta.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t stop thinking…what if? Y’know?” She mused.

Aaron thudded his cutlery onto the wooden table and leaned forwards with his arms braced either side of his pasta bowl. From across the table, Jess peered at him sadly.

“Listen to me, ‘what if’ will drive you insane. ‘what if’ does not matter.” He said firmly “What matters is that he’s inside the walls, under the care of a doctor and he’s going to be fine.”

His words made perfect sense but the battle of wills between emotion and logic was a tricky one, especially when she was so tired her bones were weary and her thoughts were jumbled, like a hundred people all talking at once.

“He could have died. Because of me.” She whispered.

“Stop this!” Aaron cried, slamming a hand on the table and making her flinch with the noise. “Please, Jess. I don’t like seeing you like this. You are exhausted.”

“I just want to be with him.” He heard her say under her breath.

Rising to his feet, he rounded the table and dragged out the chair next to her. He settled sideways to enable him to see her face clearly and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Okay. Um, I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to think about it before you answer me because it’s important.” He warned, noticing her side glance nervously at him.

“Okay.” She croaked.

“Are you in love with him?”

Jess began to reply without thinking, ignoring Aarons request and diving straight into her default response.

“Huh. No” She scoffed “I mean…I care about him. Sure. I think about him a lot so I’m going to care, right? Do I have loving feelings for him...? Yeah. I suppose I do. Do I love him?” She stared at the top of her wine glass where her finger was poised. Aaron could almost see the cogs turning in her head. She took her hand away from the glass and covered her mouth with it. “Oh my god” She breathed from behind it as her eyes lift to Aaron’s face. She gradually lowered her hand and it juddered in the air as she connected the dots.

“I-I’m in love with Daryl.” She uttered.

“I know, Jess. I know.” Aaron sighed.

~ ~ ~

Denise was as firm a doctor as she could be, having worked as a psychiatrist with many varied and difficult clients, she was well versed in the art of saying no and sticking to it. For three hours she had kept up her strong stance and maintained that if Daryl was to remain infection-free and on the mend, he must stay within the walls of the infirmary, where medications and equipment were at hand and she was a knock on a door away should she be needed.

But Daryl was intolerable when he had a bee in his bonnet and argued relentlessly until Denise could take no more and almost told Jess that she would pay her in shampoo and conditioner to take him away so she could get some peace. Finally getting his own way, Daryl accepted that he had to have twice daily check ins from the doctor and start physiotherapy as soon as his wound was properly healed. He was also told that he would need to agree to help from other people and that refraining from putting any pressure on his leg for two weeks would mean he needed constant help to move around.

It was late, the streets were dark and the night guard shift had commenced. Across the still and silent streets, Rick and Jess wheeled Daryl across the road on his infirmary bed and halted on the other side. Jess handed him some crutches and when Denise hovered nearby and asked if he needed a tutorial, he waved her off in annoyance and demanded that he could do it without any help. Jess was glad he’d been re-dosed with pain meds half an hour before, because the thought of the agony that came with him shuffling from the wheeled bed and onto the crutches with only one working leg made her wince.

It took him a while, but with grit and determination, a few choice swear words at everyone present who tried to encourage him and a lucky amount of upper body strength, Daryl successfully managed to get himself into the house and up the stairs. Halfway up the staircase, he tossed the crutches to the top and used his arms to hoist himself the rest of the way up, under the watchful eyes of Rick and Michonne. Jess, who was in the kitchen with Denise, decided she couldn’t watch anymore no matter how much shameless gawking she could do at his arms. Instead, she opted to be the one to go through Daryl’s recovery plan and medications with Denise and Carol.

Jess’s attention was soon caught by Michonne who descended the stairs and sighed loudly, shaking her head and vanishing into the living room. She was closely followed by Rick, who wandered into the kitchen and swapped places with Carol after she announced she was going to take his meds to him and make sure there was nothing in his room that he could trip over. Denise wished everyone luck, knowing they’d need it if the last three hours she’d endured was anything to go by, and abruptly left the house.

Rick perched on a stool at the kitchen island across from Jess while she squinted at the label on a bottle of wine, tempted to neck the entire thing even though she wasn't much of a drinker.

“He should have stayed where Denise could keep an eye on him.” He said wearily. “He’s such a pain in the a-”

“Oh, believe me, I am not expecting an easy time. Denise warned me that all he does is complain.” Jess conveyed, pushing her lips into a thin line. “If it’s OK with you, I was going to stay the night, so I’m here if he needs anything.”

Rick picked up a jug of orange juice from the space between them and poured himself a glass, downing the whole thing as Jess watched on, sliding the wine bottle back onto the counter and pushing it away.

“Of course, you can stay, but you don’t have to. We can handle him between us” He told her.

“I know. I want to.” She stated plainly.

He placed his glass on the counter top and studied her face. He still wore his gun holster at his waist and his brown, curled hair hung loosely over his forehead.

“This wasn’t your fault, Jess.” He assured her.

“It’s not about that” She shook her head before reaching over to the orange juice. Rick suddenly remembered his manners and poured her a glass of her own, pushing it across the marble to her. “I know he’s a miserable bastard right now, but I care about him.”

“Alright. Just don’t expect him to like the idea.” He smiled.

“I can handle Mr. Grumpy.” She chuckled.

“Yeah, you can probably deal with him better than I can,” he remarked, getting up and passing her. He paused to squeeze her shoulder “Are you ok? After what happened?”

“Mmhmm. Was pretty scary but it could have been a lot worse.” She mused.

“You did good, Jess. What you had to do, that was tough. We uh, we won’t talk about how you made the guy suffer first” he mentioned with a light pat on her shoulder.

Jess grinned and giggled slightly, feeling a hint of guilt for finding such a comment to be amusing considering it was referring to the man she’d murdered. “Thanks, sheriff.”

“I’ll get you some blankets and a pillow. Unless you’re um, going to sleep next to Daryl?” He asked tentatively.

“I’ll take some blankets. Thanks” She replied, opting for the less awkward option and telling herself that even though it was quite apparent that Rick had an idea there may be something more to her friendship with Daryl, she wasn’t about to encourage addressing the elephant in the room.

=-=-=-=-=-=

Climbing the stairs of the house which was commonly known across the town as the ‘Grimes Home’ due to it being occupied by the three remaining members of the Grimes family, Jess waddled from side to side, balancing precariously on each, shiny step with her arms full of blankets and pillows. Picture frames adorned the walls depicting a family that were no more, ghosts of a time that once was, before the turn and before the house became a haven for a new family. Jess watched their happy faces fade past her as she climbed the stairs, hoping that one day, someone would replace the photos with happy pictures of Judith and Carl.

Unsurprisingly, Daryl’s room was at the end of the hall, away from everyone else’s and when she reached the closed door she didn’t even bother to knock. It wasn’t like he’d be anywhere else but laid up on the bed with scowl on his face anyway. Bustling through the door and getting blankets caught around the handle, Jess quietly cursed to herself and entered the room, dropping her haul onto the end of the bed as lightly as she could.

It was a typical suburban teenagers’ room. The bookshelf was still stocked and the walls boasted the remnants of band posters. Daryl had done little to make the place his own, his crossbow rested on the dresser and his vest was thrown across the back of a chair. On the top of a chest of drawers was evidence of bolt carving and partially made fishing floats. Feathers, pieces of wood and tools littered the surface. These were the only elements in the room that told her that he lived there now.

“What are ya doin? What’s this?” Daryl’s voice startled her; she had expected him to be sleeping due to the number of painkillers he was on. But there he was, sitting up with the covers drawn up to his waist. He was wearing a black vest and his hair was tousled, as if he’d tried to sleep but had given up. He was scowling at her.

“Ugh, lord.” Jess scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “I hoped you’d be asleep so I could avoid all your whining.”

“I don’t sleep much. What’s goin’ on?” He enquired.

Accepting that she may well have a fight on her hands, Jess grabbed a pillow from the top of the pile and clutched it in both hands.

“I brought you an extra pillow and I’m staying with you tonight.” She told him, throwing the pillow at him. He battled it away before it hit him and he collected it from the mattress at his side, tucking it behind his shoulders and settling back against it.

“No. No ya ain’t.” He said firmly while pointing at her.

“You don’t have a say in this so don’t waste your breath.” Jess warned while the unfolded the blankets and began laying them on the floor next to the bed. Daryl’s hands rose before falling back to the bed in frustration.

“I’m fine, Jess!” He exclaimed. Jess whirled around with fire in her eyes.

“Daryl. Shut up!” she commanded “I’ll sleep on the floor in case you need anything”

“Don’t talk shit. Go home. I’ll be fine. Don’t exactly live alone” He continued.

Jess’s temper was beginning to rise but she bit her tongue and tried to remain composed and in control. He was so determined to be as independent as possible, that he would only end up doing himself more harm than good. Jess was aware of Daryl’s need to refrain from asking for or accepting any help, but this was an argument he was not going to win.

“Give it up. I’m staying.” She shrugged before sinking to the floor beside the bed and fluffing her pillow. "If you want me to leave, then you're going to have to kick me out yourself...and you can't do that right now."

It wasn’t that Daryl didn’t want her company. Under normal circumstances, he would have found a reason to be near her, to go on a run with her, to swing by Aaron and Eric’s in case she was there or he would deliberately cross over into her hunting territory. But having her see him incapacitated was not something he liked the idea of. Nevertheless, she had made it crystal clear that she was going nowhere and no matter how many irate sighs that escaped him or how many times she glowered at her, she was staying put.

“Fine. Stubborn ass woman.” He muttered.

She scanned the books on the shelf beside her, most of them teenage romance novels left from the previous occupants. It would do as something to pass the time and harked back to the many romance books she used to read as a teenager herself. In fact, whoever used the room before Daryl didn’t have such terrible taste in literature at all.

She selected a title referring to some kind of predictable and inevitable unity between a bad boy and a plain girl and figured it would make for some easy night-time reading. She didn’t know what time it was, just that it was late. The muffled footsteps of the rest of the house were padding about beyond the door on their way to bed and her body was almost as weary as it had been in the first few days of her setting out alone from the quarry.

Her eyes grazed over the first few words and her mind wandered. She was being watched and she could sense it without even looking up from the page. It was as plain as day that her temporary room mate was studying her from his spot up on the bed. She detected a small sigh, laced with the quietest of conflicted, raspy growls.

“Get up here” She heard him say.

“What?” She queried with both eyebrows raised innocently. Having no plans to move, and no intention of sleeping anywhere near him, confusion swept across her face and she slowly turned her head to see him peering at her with a mildly annoyed expression.

“If ya gonna stay at least sleep on a bed. There’s enough room for the both of us. Get up here” He ordered.

Jess hesitated. This was a new level of boundary pushing and one she wasn’t sure she was comfortable with. It would mean mere inches of space between them and a palpable silence for hours throughout the night during which time she was very likely to just lay there, mulling over the same thought.

I’m sharing a bed with Daryl.

“Are you sure? That’s not weird for you?” She asked.

“No. It ain’t. I’ma change my damn mind if ya keep askin’ questions” he complained.

The more she considered it, the more enticing the idea was. After all, it was a good opportunity to indulge a little in secret and after everything they’d been through, her having murdered someone and offering up her blood to aid Daryl’s recovery, she figured she’d earned it. As long as it wasn’t so strange that her insecurities and naturally awkward nature around a person so attractive forced her to ruin everything.

“OK, OK.” She agreed, attempting to sound as though it was more a chore than anything else. She got to her feet, kicked off her boots and lay back on top of the covers, dragging a blanket from the floor across her legs. Opening her book, she started to read from the first word again but her concentration was nowhere to be found. Her eyes looked over the words but nothing sank in. Before long, she sensed the familiar feeling of being watched, once more.

Daryl hated the idea of her putting herself out for him. Her staying with him was bad enough and if he was going to be forced to endure her seeing him in such a state, he just wanted her to feel restful and secure and as she read by his side, she undoubtedly was not either of those things. He rubbed at his face with one hand, wondering how he should proceed with coaxing her to relax a little more. Then, he noticed the pimpled texture of her skin. Goosepimples, she was cold.

“You’re cold, just get under the covers.” He suggested.

A rush of apprehension and nervousness settled in Jess’s stomach and for a moment, she thought that whatever the story line in her book depicted, her real-life situation was unraveling at an alarmingly more rapid rate.

Pity this doesn’t end like the book does.

“I’m fine, really.” She assured him with a small smile. But he refused to stop glaring at her and she wondered why. She was sure that she would have given just about anything to be able to hear his thoughts at that precise moment.

“Ya know I ain’t gonna touch ya or nothin’, right?” He expressed.

Jess dropped the book in her lap and gawped at him, her expression shocked and saddened. Why would he ever think that such a thing would cross her mind? There were plenty of people she could have expected such behavior from but Daryl was the safest and most protective person she could have been with in that moment and the fact that he’d even pondered something so ridiculous deeply concerned her.

“Why would you even say that?” She questioned at the same time as turning her body and laying on her side, now facing him completely to show that she was not afraid to address the huge issue he’d just brought up.

“Guess I don’t want ya to think I’m like that.” He reasoned. “I aint no asshole. Would never touch ya. Unless ya… wanted me to or somethin’. I dunno. Shit. Just-just forget I said anythin’.”

Good job, jackass. He thought. Stop fuckin’ talkin’.

Jess’s face dropped and her eyebrows knitted together in sympathy. It wasn’t something she could honestly say had ever crossed her mind. Not even once. She didn’t need to be told he wasn’t a creep, or entitled, or disrespectful towards her in the slightest. She just knew. The one thing that stunned her even more than the notion that he would ever touch her in that way, was the mention that he quite possibly would if she wanted him to. She had no idea what to make of such a statement and her hands began to fidget at the tricky subject matter. Was this true? There was the distinct possibility that the painkillers were playing a part in his loose tongue and she dared to hope that it was fueled by anything more than that.

“OK” She started with a deep breath “Listen to me.” As she spoke, she braved holding eye contact with him. The importance of her answer meant he had to know she was sincere. “I would never, ever think that of you. I feel safer with you than I do with anybody else. Of course, I know that you would never do that to me. I’m actually kinda sad that you felt the need to tell me that.”

Daryl was nibbling on his thumb, hiding his true expression behind his hand and searching his brain for a response that wouldn’t make the situation worse. He dropped his hand and looked down into his lap.

“Ain’t much trust associated with bein’ a Dixon.” He mentioned. “I never had a friend like you neither. ‘Specially female. They just tend to assume shit about guys like me.”

“Oh my god.” Jess groaned, sliding onto her back and down the bed until her head was on the pillow and her hands were covering her face. “You are breaking my heart here. Stop it!” She cried. Taking her hands away, she noted his nervous demeanor and wondered where the hell this was all coming from. It was highly unusual for Daryl to talk about something so personal, let alone be the one to bring it up. Sitting up again, she ran a hand through her hair and blew the loose side strands up into the air with an exhalation.

“I trust you. You believe me when I say that, don’t you?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then I don’t ever want you to bring this up again.”

“K” he grunted. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” She scoffed. Quiet fell around them with neither one knowing how to change the atmosphere to a more tolerable one. Jess thought humor may well have been the only way and so, opened her mouth without thinking.

“At least I know you would if I wanted you to. Lucky me.”

Daryl, who wasn’t expecting to have to deal directly with his revealing and potentially dangerous comment, did something he didn’t normally do. He panicked.

“I didn’t mean that I-well, well I did. I-I just-If ya wanted…Y’know what? Never mind.”

“Yeah, never mind” She echoed stiffly.

“It’s the Oxy. I don’t really know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout here. My head’s fucked.” He lied.

“It’s fine. Let’s just brush that one under the rug.” She offered, much to his relief at the escalating horror rising in his chest. As he quelled the uneasiness and irritation at himself, he noticed Jess wriggle under the top cover, leaving the barrier of a sheet between them. A decent compromise, he concluded.

She lay on her side again, this time with her book on the bed between them. Her fingers pulled up the pages, fanning the edges over and over and creating a light flickering sound.

“There is something I wanted to say to you” She murmured. “While we’re sharing.”

“What’s that?” He inquired, worried that he would be faced with yet another conversation that was going to make him squirm.

Jess’s eyes crept along his bare arm, lit by the flickering glow of two lanterns either side of the bed. He was inches from her face and she resisted the temptation to trace her fingertips along his skin, down over his bicep to his forearm. The thought almost made her drool and she turned her attention back to what she wanted to say.

“I’m glad you saved me and all. Thank you for that. But it’s time someone told you that you need to take care of you.” She said.

Daryl hesitated, taking in her words and trying to remember a time when there was ever anyone that openly cared as much about him as Jess did. He couldn’t think of anything, because there wasn’t one. No one had ever cared like she did and the feeling was unfamiliar and strange.

“I’m fine, Jess.” He mumbled.

She pulled herself further up, forcing him to turn his head and look her in the eye.

“No, you’re not. You have a gunshot wound that could have been a lot worse and furthermore, if you don’t take care of you, think of all the people around here that need you and won’t have you. Like Judith and Carl and…and me.” She explained.

The corner of his mouth curled up and she was surprised to find him smirking at her.

“Did you just say ‘furthermore’?” He questioned in amusement. "The fuck is that?"

“Forget it. Get yourself killed. See if I care.” She bit back. Dismayed by him making a joke of what was supposed to be a genuine plea for him to at least try and place some value on his own life.

“Alright. Sorry. I get it...” He backtracked after sensing her downtrodden reaction. “…I do. But I’d still take another bullet for you tomorrow.”

It was a declaration that Jess never anticipated to get from anyone, let alone the man she had fallen for. The insistence that he would indeed put himself in death's grasp to ensure her safety. Never before had she met someone so selfless and courageous and while she was touched and inwardly emotional at the thought, on the outside she sighed with exasperation and closed her eyes briefly.

“Daryyyyl” She groaned.

She opened her eyes when she felt him touch her hand. He covered her fingers with his own to garner attention and once he had it, he quickly moved away. Peering down at her and holding her gaze, he wanted her to see it from his perspective.

“Look me in the eye n’ tell you wouldn’t do the same.” He challenged.

It was an intense moment, charged with so many unsaid things that Daryl swallowed hard and pondered over what else he could say and blame on the Oxy. But without the knowledge that she would undeniably feel the same way about him, he was not going to risk losing what he deemed to be a rare and precious connection that he never thought he would be lucky enough to have.

“Only for you.” She whispered.

Because I love you.

Then, he knew she understood his motives and reasons for doing what he did. She cared just as much as he did but it didn’t mean he would ever let her take bullets for him or even experience so much as a scratch. To him, she was a person so valuable that the prospect of losing her didn’t bare thinking about.

“Think we have an understandin’.” He concluded.

“No. I don’t like this. I don’t want to not have you around” She argued.

“Good thing you’re hangin’ round here like a bad smell then, aint it?” He commented, trying to lighten the mood by poking fun at her.

Jess could only offer up a forced huff of amusement as she looked over at his nightstand which was now home to a pile of wound dressings. There it was again. The ‘what if’ train of thought that Aaron warned her would drive her crazy. What if he’d been killed? What if she had to carry on without him?

“Jess, I ain’t goin nowhere.” He said seriously. She looked up at him and he realized that her eyes were bloodshot. A single tear raced down her cheek and she sniffed and tried to force it away. He reached out and wiped the dampness away from under her eye with his thumb. Her cheek tingled and she very nearly said it. It was on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be freed. The six little words that would change everything. But her heart on her sleeve would only destroy it all.

I am in love with you.

“You’re tired. Go to sleep.” He cooed at her.

She nodded and snuggled down next to him. It was all she could do to hide her desire to just kiss him and explain it away afterwards. In the light of the lantern on the nightstand, he focused on her hand by his side and licked his lips as he toyed with the idea of holding it. He wondered what her reaction would be and decided to brave it, lacing his fingers with hers. She didn’t pull away and gently gripped onto him instead. After a few minutes, he thought her to be drifting off to sleep, but what he couldn’t see was that she was staring at her hand intertwined with his, a small smile on her face and a feeling of some kind of subtle triumph in her heart.

=-=-=-=-=

It was the birds that woke her. A sound she didn’t hear as much now the world was decaying. She didn’t know if it was food being scarce or migration, but there were fewer birds around than usual and so, their melodic chirping from the roof of the house was a pleasant and relaxing way to wake from what had been a deep slumber. Her eyes were heavy and her limbs felt like they were made from cement as her body slowly woke up. A soft, cushioned surface under her cheek warmed the side of her face and she snuggled against it, emitting a contented sigh.

It was a first for Daryl. He peered down at the sleepy form of Jess, nuzzled against his bare arm with a hand draped over his wrist and thought that he could maybe get used to it. Waking up next to a pretty girl sleeping on him was certainly a nicer way to start the day, if only his leg wasn’t screaming with pain. He inhaled slowly, forcing his mind away from the agony and focusing instead on Jess and her dark eyelashes and the subtle pink of her lips.

Jess wasn’t sure if she’d ever moved as fast in her entire life than she did when she opened her eyes and realized she’d been sleeping nestled onto Daryl’s arm. On the one hand, she was truly horrified and on the other, slightly smug that she’d managed to cop a feel, albeit unintentionally. She sprang up, blinked rapidly and crawled away from him, bringing her legs up and sitting back against the headboard.

“Oh, Uh. I’m sorry. I don't know how I ended up…there.” She stammered upon noticing he was awake.

“S’alright. Mornin’.” He greeted, aware of her discomfort and watching her run her hands through her hair and adjust her T-shirt. She glanced down at his arm where a fading, pink mark had occurred from her using him as a pillow.

“Did I, did I drool?” She asked.

“Nah. Ya snore though.” He said casually, biting his lower lip and stifling a grin.

“I do?! Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I-” She rambled.

“-I’m kidding.” He interrupted with a snort of laughter.

“Oh.” Was her grunted reply while she felt the panic in her chest begin to disappear.

Daryl lifted a hand and gently smoothed a thumb over the damp skin below her bottom lip, seeing her freeze and her eyes widen.

That’s the second time he’s touched me like that.

“Ya did drool. A little” he told her.

“Oh god” She groaned covering her rapidly reddening face with her hands. She could hear his gruff chuckle from beside her and hazarded lowering her hands. She was met with a wide grin, one that she would happily look at for the rest of her days. Something happened to him when he smiled. Maybe it was because it was rare and that it was only really her that he gifted with such a sight, but she thought that in those quick moments he looked genuinely happy and she could only hope that she was even a part of the reason why.

“Stop laughing.” She complained, playfully slapping at his hand. “Jerk.”

=-=-=-=-=

The ten days after Daryl gaining a hole in his leg and the feeling of being imprisoned behind the walls of Alexandria, his relationship with Jess remained the one thing that provided him with some means of escapism. Her kindness and devotion to his recovery only built up his feelings for her to a powerful level and he had become more sure than ever that if he ever got a sign that she saw him the same way, beyond any reasonable doubt, he would take the opportunity to act on his feelings.

But all he could do was hope and admire her while she ignored his requests for her to take some time out and look after herself. She brought him food, administered his meds and helped him to and from the bathroom when Carol and Carl were not around. Jess’s absence during the mornings was noticed by Deanna, who quickly tasked Michonne with security cover and compiled a hunting team from the other residents to ensure that food didn’t become an issue. Rick was determined to find the rest of the group that Daryl’s assailant was from and along with Glenn and a couple of the others, had been away for days, scouring the woods and abandoned buildings for anything that would lead them to discovering how much risk such a group posed.

For four nights Jess slept by Daryl’s side, careful not to end up drooling on his arm again. Her days were spent playing cards with him and discussing a wide range of topics, some of which Daryl wasn’t even aware he had an opinion on. But Jess had a knack for that; revealing things about him that he would never have previously discovered himself. It took some adjusting to let her take care of him, but she brought the best out in him and despite his sometimes low and snappy mood at being trapped in the house, he was never rude or ungrateful to her.

Denise checked in regularly and gave Daryl the all clear for any infections in his gunshot wound. Her next step was to enlist everyone to persuade him that he needed to take it easy and practice some physiotherapy to aid his recovery. Believing that he just needed to be allowed outside to carry on doing what he always did, Daryl did nothing but complain about being useless sitting around all day.

When Jess was sleeping or out of the house for some reason, Carol tried her best to ease him into the idea of doing just a few of the exercises in the book that Denise had left him. Every time, she was met with a gruff dismissal, usually coupled with a cuss laden mumbling about how it wasn’t going to work anyway.

One evening, when Jess had finished up a meal kindly cooked for her by Aaron and Eric, who were consistent in offering her their spare room, use of the shower and many meals since Daryl had been shot, she arrived at the Grimes home to find a grumpy looking Daryl perched on the edge of his bed wearing black sweatpants and a sleeveless, black button down on which he’d neglected to fasten the top two buttons. Jess rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she thought he could hear the thoughts that traveled through her head and liked to play on the fact that she couldn’t look at him without going weak at the knees.

“Carol said you refused to do your physio.” She said, dropping her bag in the corner of the room and sliding a physiotherapy book from the dresser. “Your leg will seize up if you don’t and you’ll be hopping around like a cripple for a hell of a lot longer than you would if you’d just humor us and do as your fucking told.”

It was a new thing he’d discovered about her. She didn’t suffer fools and quickly became stern with him if he dared to argue with her about anything to do with his recovery. He could tell she genuinely cared and as a result, she would shoot him down and put him in his place without so much as a blink. He couldn’t deny that a part of him liked her pushy nature when she was tested and he would have gone as far as to say he’d met his match.

“Fine” He grumbled. “But this ain’t gonna do nothin’.”

She moved closer to him, offering him her arm to help him stand. He accepted it and she eased him to his feet. He was able to apply a certain amount of weight on his injured leg which was a good start and Jess was sure that the more he complied and just listened to Denise’s advice, the quicker he would be back to his normal self.

“It will, that’s what it says in the book.” She countered.

“Fuck the book.” He snapped.

“For god sakes, Daryl! Stop acting like a damn kid and just do it!” She cried, tugging on his arm and guiding him over to the wall. He hobbled along beside her and risked a couple of glances at her face. Her jaw was pulled tight in annoyance and he knew that she was likely to get pretty mad at him if he didn’t give in.

Allowing her to help him balance on his good leg and hold onto the wall, she talked him through quadriceps stretches as per the instructions in the book and stood close by, with her hands hovering around him in case he lost his footing while he put it into practice.

“OK, good. That’s good. A little higher. Great.” She encouraged.

Obviously in pain, he grit his teeth and Jess could see sweat emerging on his forehead. Once he’d completed one exercise, she helped him through the rest, sometimes having to take his weight or help him to the floor and up again. He very reluctantly accepted her aid and tried to ignore the warmth of her body against his and had no idea that she was thinking the exact same thing. She counted him through each movement and when she tried to let go of his hand once he was sitting safely back on the bed. He held onto her and stared at her.

“Ya ain’t gotta do this with me.” He said.

Jess sank down onto the bed beside him, squeezed his hand slightly and let go.

“I knew you’d start this at some point. I’m not going anywhere. I know you, you won’t do your physiotherapy otherwise” She explained.

“Look, just get Carol to rat me out if I don’t. You don’t need to be here everyday” He told her.

Her heart fluttered with a flicker of sadness. She shoved away the notion that he was sick of the sight of her away and told herself that she was assuming the worst without having the facts. She smiled slightly and held his gaze. Despite his injury, she liked seeing him in this environment. In his room, in his sweatpants and not covered in dirt and toting a crossbow for a change. Not many people got to see him like that and she was grateful that he trusted her enough to let her be there for him.

“Do you want me to leave?” She asked.

“Naw. Not at all. Just don’t want ya wastin’ ya time stuck here with me every day” He expressed.

Glad that she’d not reacted too hastily, Jess nodded and brushed a few strands of hair from in front of his eye. She liked his eyes and being able to see them had revealed a lot more about him over the course of the two weeks she’d been spending so much time with him. More than anything, she’d learned that he said so much with his eyes without having to actually say any words at all.

“Time enjoyed is not time wasted.” She smiled.

“Enjoyed? Tryin’ to tell me you enjoy this? I wasn’t born yesterday, Jess.” He protested.

“I enjoy your company, you grouchy bastard” She replied, leaning towards him and nudging his shoulder with hers.

He gave her a thoughtful smile, his eyes scanning her features until she retrieved a small towel from the bed behind him and wiped his sweaty brow for him. He briefly closed his eyes and simply enjoyed having her tend to him, thinking that if someone was to explain to him two years back that he would be so taken in by the pretty nerd he’d met in a quarry at the end of the world and for the first time would have feelings that went way beyond friendship, he would have laughed in their face.

“Thanks” he mumbled quietly.

“I’ll put it on the tab.” She commented.

“Tab?”

“Your ‘reasons I have to be nice to Jess’ tab.”

“C’mon, like I need reasons.” He admitted. He didn’t, being nice to her was as natural as breathing. She didn’t grate on him like most people did, she didn’t make him feel suffocated or cast out or like he just didn’t belong. When he was with her, he did belong and he was sure that she belonged right by his side too. If it was as a friend or anything more, he was going to leave it up to her. “This one of the things about you I didn’t know?”

She felt a spark of excitement when she put two and two together and realized that he was referring to the flirtatious exchange they’d had after the party. The exchange she still hadn’t managed to get any clear answers about. It wasn’t like it wasn’t on her mind. It niggled away every time she saw him. She’d struggled to find the right moment to ask and, in the end, had admitted defeat and opted to leave the whole thing alone.

“What does that mean?” She wanted to know.

“Nurse Jess” he smirked.

“Maybe. But I don’t just do this for anyone.” She conveyed. As a naturally caring person, Jess was known among the few people that made up her small tribe of friends, as the one that would bend over backwards to make sure the people that she loved were okay. Some tried to take advantage of her kindness and that was when her efforts could only be pushed so far before she cut them off altogether. It was true, she didn’t do it for just anyone and in their present situation, Daryl was one of very, very few people that she would happily give up her routine and solitary life for.

“Then I guess that makes me pretty honored” he said.

“C’mon, all you do is complain about ‘Nurse Jess’.” She reminded him, part of her message being in jest and the rest of it being the truth as she saw it.

“Nah, m’complainin’ bout the situation.” He corrected very deliberately.

“Oh, glad you clarified that.”

What preceded a long pause was another big risk from Daryl. He had no idea why he had the urge to toe the line of flirtatious exchanges. Maybe it was the way her cheeks flushed pink or the shy giggle she couldn’t help. Or, maybe it was the temptation to tell her how he felt and the idea that she could possibly feel the same. He had no idea, but he pressed ahead anyway, confident in the fact that he wasn’t being obvious enough that his comments couldn’t be explained in a more platonic way, should he need to.

“Not sure nurses are s’posed to sleep in their patient’s beds” He said out of nowhere.

Jess was busying herself folding the towel in her lap and she paused and stared down at the carpet when she heard his remark.

“Yeah? File a complaint.” She shrugged with one shoulder and the smallest, yet still detectable of smiles.

“Nah” He grunted “That’s one thing I ain’t gonna complain ‘bout.”

She glanced up at him hesitantly, finding the most gorgeous of suggestive smiles waiting for her and she was sure she was melting.

“Right.” she whispered. Then, there it was, that small giggle that he wanted to see. “Okay.”

I ain’t ever gonna get tired of that.

=-=-=-=-=

A coldness on the side of her head was a much more unpleasant way to begin the day than with the singing of the birds beside Daryl in his bed. In her fairground home, she sat up and wiped a hand over the damp mass in her hair. Then, a single drop on her forehead made her jump and she craned her neck upwards, examining the ceiling and noticing a rotting and saturated mass of paintwork right above her. It was raining all night. Dragging herself out of bed, she dressed and checked her reflection in the mirror, something she now did every morning without fail. Her appearance was becoming more important to her since she’d grown a lot closer to Daryl and the odd glance in the mirror gave her the confidence to know that he wasn’t talking to a hot mess every day when she accompanied him on the morning hunt. It was a compromise they’d made with Deanna. Jess would chaperone Daryl on the hunt until his leg was fully healed and Daryl could get outside the walls and stop snapping at everyone like a tiger in a cage. Jess had also started wearing her hair down more often, knowing that Daryl could rarely resist the temptation to tenderly move it from her vision if it blew in the breeze and each time he did, it was like a fix from a drug that she was more than happy to submit to. It was the little things to her. The way he rolled his eyes when she called him ‘stinky’ and the way he huffed bashfully every single time she was feeling bold enough to call him ‘handsome’.

When she arrived in Alexandria, she headed straight for Deanna’s place and asked if she could have some roof tiles to fix the leak in her ceiling. Deanna immediately agreed and refused any kind of payment, telling jess in no uncertain terms that she wouldn’t have such issues if she were to just move inside the walls. She was even offered the corner house which was unoccupied and big enough for at least six people to live there comfortably. Jess declined once again, expressing that she’d feel like a fart in an oil drum in that huge house and that the fairground was more comfortable.

Upon collection of her tiles from the garage that housed building materials and tools, Jess set off with a ladder under her arm and headed for the gate. The sky was threatening more rain, its heavy, gray cloud becoming more ominous by the second and the wind gaining momentum. She could detect the faint rumble of thunder in the distance. There was no doubt that she had to get the roof fixed before the whole thing collapsed and she had to move into the oil drum after all.

Daryl was ambling along the street smoking the last of a cigarette when she crossed his path without even noticing him.

“Hey” he called out “That don’t look like huntin’ stuff.”

She stopped walking as he neared her and looked down at her gloved hand and the two tiles she held.

“Oh, No. I have a hole in my roof. I just need to repair it and I’ll come back and we can go.” She explained.

Although he could walk, he was limited to certain distances and still displayed a limp, much to his annoyance. Denise explained that the damage to the muscle and tissue in his leg meant he would need time and patience to get it back to full working order with no pain. He was getting there, Jess knew that much, but the progress was nowhere near as quick as he wanted it to be.

“I’ll give ya a hand. Shouldn’t be goin’ up on the roof out there by yaself.” He decided, taking the tiles from her.

“You can’t go up a ladder.” She mentioned.

“Sure I can, I’ll be fine.”

“No, Daryl.” She said, snatching the tiles back from his grasp. “If you want to help you can hold it still and make sure I don’t break my neck in this wind.”

Not giving him time to quarrel with her about it, she surged on with Daryl in tow, thanking the gate guard and marching through the woods to her home.

=-=-=-=-=

By the time Jess reached the roof of the diner. The wind was howling through the trees and lashing at her, sending drops of rain and leaves flying at her like she was in a wind tunnel. Her hands gripped onto the end of the ladder, turning her knuckles white while she solidified her balance on the top rung. From inside her coat, she tugged out a tile having kept the other one safely on the ground as a spare in case she discovered more holes in the roof.

She wobbled in the wind while leaning over and attempting to slide the tile into place. It was a perfect fit and Jess was glad of it. But the remnants of the previous tile meant the hole needed to be cleared of shards before the new one could be slotted into place. She worked as quickly as she could, throwing bits of broken tile onto the grass below.

“Just switch up with me, won’t take long.” Daryl called up to her.

“No!” She shouted back, over her shoulder.

“Shit, Jess. Were ya always this stubborn?” He asked.

“Pot calling the kettle back, stinky! Now, shut up and let me work!”

“Stinky. Bad books. Right.” He muttered to himself.

Finally able to fit the tile, she wiggled it into the square space, tapping the edge and feeling it secure just as a powerful gust of wind overpowered her at the top of the ladder and caused her to lose her footing. She grappled for the ladders handle and missed as the roof shot up in front of her and a searing pain engulfed the right side of her ribs. Before she could make any kind of noise, she’d accepted her fate. She was falling and was likely to be injured if the burning across her ribs was anything to go by. Towards the end of the ladder, her right leg looped through one of the gaps as Daryl managed to grab a hold of her before she hit the floor.

His strong arms wrapped around her waist, bunching up her jacket and thick, armored vest. It occurred to her that she still hadn’t hit the floor and that Daryl had caught her mid-air. He was humming instructions in her ear but none of them were registering as adrenaline thundered through her body. Her hands shook and her knees were trembling as he hoisted her up with all his might and told her to pull her leg out of the ladder. She didn’t hear him but managed to figure out what she needed to do regardless. Her leg dislodged easily and when her feet hit the floor, she almost buckled and ended up crumpled on the grass. If it wasn’t for Daryl, who had spun her around to face him but was still clinging to her waist while she caught her breath, she would have been face-down in the middle of the fairground.

“Y’alright?! Ya hurt?” He fretted, still keeping his hands where they were, on her bare skin under her top.

“No, just a-just a scrape I think.” She breathed.

“Where? Show me.” He demanded, looking down at her. It wasn’t until he tried to step back that it dawned on Jess that she was gripping his forearms like her life depended on it.

“M-my ribs, where I slipped. The handle, up there. It’s probably just bruised. It’s-it’s fine” she tried to break away from him, but he held on firmly.

“Naw, hold up. Ya tremblin’.” He told her.

For some reason, her mind went straight to his injury and she began to worry about the fact that he’d been standing on it for so long and had also had to endure holding her weight on it after catching her.

“But your-your leg.” She stammered.

“Doesn’t hurt. Can’t even feel it.” He lied “take a breath.” They locked eyes and his hands slowly moved down to her hips. Sensing she would scurry away like a frightened animal if he were to let go, he softened his voice and loosened his grip slightly. “Show me where ya hurt.”

“No. There’s no need.” She quickly answered.

The wind blew about her face and the chill it brought with it was beginning to bite. Her side was stinging, aggravated further by the cold. Daryl, who was wearing a leather biker jacket under his usual vest, had dressed for the weather, but Jess had failed to do so, believing that her regular clothing would suffice and not anticipating a storm to be rolling in.

“There is, coulda cracked a rib. Just let me feel for any breaks. I spent my childhood dealin’ with broken bones n’ I had a hell of a lot of fights in my time. I know what I’m lookin’ for.”

“I know you do. I just… don’t want to.” She confessed.

Then, the penny dropped and so did his hands. It was suddenly very clear why she was so averse to letting him check her for any injuries. She was nervous about showing him anything under her clothing. He watched her vision drop to the floor and nodded to himself. It all made sense now.

“Do you trust me, or not? Because one minute you’re sleepin’ in my bed n’ the next, ya won’t let me check ya to make sure ya aint hurt.” He stated

She looked up at him with big, pleading eyes, full of worry that she’d offended him and also that she’d have to explain what was going on in her head. That her insecurities didn’t just drop off with her weight loss. That she still didn’t like what she saw when she looked in the mirror. That she was deeply in love with him and didn’t want him to think her disgusting or ugly. But she did trust him and knew he cared.

“I do. I do trust you.” She assured him.

“Then let me take a look. It’s just me. S’alright.” he soothed

When the wind blew her hair across her face, he brushed it aside for her, taking a split second to ghost his thumb over her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat and it was then that she accepted that if she was going to trust anyone with this, it should be him.

She gingerly lifted the hem of her vest, drawing it up to just under her bra. He leaned down and she observed his eyes sweep over her skin, squinting slightly which indicated that there was, in fact, something to look at. Her eyes bulged when he went to place his fingers over her ribs and she jolted away. Closing her eyes and sighing.

“I’m sorry. Go ahead. I’m just not used to being touched.” She admitted.

“Yeah, me neither” he mumbled. “It won’t take a sec”

She nodded and felt her entire body tingle with electricity when he began to gently feel over her ribs, pressing at each one and frowning.

“Shit” he hissed, tracing his fingertips over the large red patch on her ribs. She flinched and held her breath. He applied light pressure along the mark “this hurt?”

“A little” she croaked.

“Your chest or back hurt?”

“No”

He placed his whole hand against her skin and her attempt not to react paid off. The warmth of his palm was a welcome relief from the cold that was licking at her skin from the wind. Daryl positioned his other hand on her shoulder

“Twist ya body, towards me. Breathe in” He instructed. She complied with complaint, having faith that he knew what he was looking for and from what she could tell so far, it certainly wasn’t his first brush with potentially broken ribs. The thought was a sad one when she thought about why a person would have such knowledge through experience alone.

“K. Now breathe out. Any pain?”

“Not much”

“It ain’t broken, gonna have a big bruise though.” He warned, dropping his hand from her shoulder but leaving his palm flush with her ribs, only unintentionally dropping it an inch or so. Her eyes nervously found his staring right back at her and he swallowed hard. She was showing him all kinds of firsts without having a clue about any of it. Having never felt anything for a female before, the intensity of the tension between them was stifling to him. Standing there with her, with his hand on her smooth skin and lost in the uneasy beauty of her eyes, for the first time, he wanted to kiss her more than anything. His gaze dropped to her lips and in the back of his mind he wished that his knowledge of how to deal with his feelings for the pretty nerd reached as far as his knowledge of broken ribs did. He wanted to, but he didn’t. He’d already told her he couldn’t lose her again and one kiss could ruin everything.

“Thank you.” She breathed, breaking the atmosphere and moving back. The contact was broken and Jess tugged her top down. “Is your leg OK?”

“Forgot all ‘bout it” he admitted. Her beautiful, soft skin had distracted him away from the discomfort and it wasn’t something he was likely to forget any time soon.

=-=-=-=-=

Two nights had passed since Jess had faced Daryl’s warm and not altogether uninviting touch. He was right about her rib; it wasn’t broken but it was bruised enough to render her as useless as a chocolate teapot for a couple of days, during which she spent time awkwardly trying to avoid having to discuss what had happened at the fairground with Daryl by avoiding him altogether and playing board games with Abraham while he drowned himself in whiskey on Aaron and Eric’s front porch.

Her avoidance of Daryl hadn’t gone unnoticed but far from being angered by it, he understood that whatever had transpired between them both was complicated and he needed time to process it. He couldn’t be sure that Jess felt the same, or if she even felt anything at all, but he’d been pushed to the brink of an act that was so out of character he felt like she was changing every part of him without even trying.

But being away from her wasn’t an option for too long and eventually, he found himself wandering the town in the dark on the way to Aaron and Eric’s, the now mild pain in his leg humming just enough for him to notice, but being more of an irritation than anything else. As he rounded the corner from the main street, Abraham breezed past him in a cloud of alcohol and slapped him on the back, bidding him a good night in a slurred sentence that was barely comprehensible.

Jess was swaying on the porch swing, reading the book she’d started in Daryl’s room the first night she stayed with him. He climbed the stairs and noted the two whiskey glasses and a bottle on the table. The rapid and unusual change in the weather from a storm to humidity and warmth past dark meant that Jess had taken off her camo pants and wore a pair of shorts and a tight tank top. For the first time, Daryl was able to see how much her body had changed and had to make a marked effort to drag his eyes away from her. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders.

Damn, girl. No wonder Abe spent the evening here.

Hearing his footsteps on the decking, she glanced up and closed her book. Daryl wasn’t the only one that had been mulling over the fairground incident at every given opportunity. What he didn’t know, was that she felt it too, only she had no idea what was going on in his head at the time. It was the closest she’d ever come to making a move on him but the physical contact with no barrier made things difficult and brought her insecurities to the surface. Guessing his stance on any of it was nigh on impossible. All she had to go on was that she was in love with her best friend, who, she couldn’t only assume, simply liked to watch her blush every now and then with a flirty comment.

“You two drinkin’ together now?”

Her back prickled at the sound of what could have been seen as yet more jealousy concerning the friendship that had blossomed between her and Abraham. Or, was it simply an observation? She wished he was easier to read.

“Why do you ask?” She tried.

He didn’t know the answer himself. Just that his blood boiled whenever Abraham touched her, or joked with her, or made her laugh so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. He hated the way she sometimes gravitated towards him and refused to ask him to stop making suggestive comments towards her. He hated that she was so comfortable with Abraham, yet with him, she was completely different.

“Curious I guess.” Was all he had to offer.

“Right. To answer your question, he drinks and I scold him for it” She informed him as she slid the book onto the table and patted the swings cushion at her side. Daryl took his cue and sat down beside her, enjoying the rhythmic and soothing rocking of the swing.

“So, you got friends here now?” He questioned. She was different to when she’d first revealed her identity. She was more open to conversation, to teaming up for runs and actually turned up to a party. She was changing and he was seeing more and more of the old Jess peeking through. Her guard was lowering and he wanted to know if it was going to stay down.

“I’m coming around to the idea.” She mentioned breezily “You make it a little difficult to stay so stubborn.”

She shifted and bent one leg, tucking her left foot under her right thigh and draping her arm over her bent knee. She was now facing him with one foot on the floor that was controlling the speed of which the swing swayed.

“Me?” He questioned.

“Yeah, you. You’re my favorite.” She smiled.

He grunted and almost commented that actually, it seemed like Abraham was her favorite.

Jess got up and moved to the edge of the porch, gazing up to the stars and stretching her arms above her head. Through his hair, he allowed himself a peep of the appealing curves of her waist and hips. A conflict raged inside him.

Don’t be an asshole. You shouldn’t be lookin’ at her like this. But hot fuckin’ damn, she cleans up real good.

Jess was busy, wrapped up in her own thoughts for a long time while Daryl watched her every move and bit down on his lower lip.

“I could take you to my boat.” She hummed up to the sky before looking over her shoulder at him. When her eyes met his, he flinched out of his guilty but highly enjoyable daydream.

“Um…Ya boat?” He queried.

She turned and glided back to him, standing over him and gracing him with her shiny lips curved into a playful smile.

“I lived there for a while before I found the fairground. I still go there sometimes, when it’s not too cold. You’d like it. Far away from everyone…. Just you and me. You interested?” She wasn’t intending for it to sound like she was presenting him with an offer laced with sexual tension, it had merely transpired that way and she’d done nothing to rectify it. When his reaction wasn’t one of pure horror, she figured that maybe, just maybe, she could play him at his own game.

Daryl was enthralled and was gawping up at her with his mouth open. He slowly raised one eyebrow.

“Hell yeah, I’m interested.”

----- tagged as requested ----

@lilred254 @woundmetender

#daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x oc #twd daryl #daryl #twd fanfiction

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talltalesandbedtimestories · 4 years

Text

A View To A Winchester (Part 17)

Series Page

Summary: Julie’s starting a new life after divorce in a home with a very nice view.

A Dean X OFC story. I got this idea staring out the view of my home office window and thinking how nice it would be to have Dean Winchester to ogle.

Section Word Count: 5,800

Section Content: fluff, flirting, angst, nightmare, PTSD, smut, R-rated language, all the sex

~~~~~

Dean had been merciful to her - or mean, depending on how you look at it - and kept his t-shirt and boxer briefs on when they prepped to share his bed. “Should grab you something in case you don’t want to sleep naked.” He offered. “I won’t talk you out of it, though.” Her heart almost exploded when he dug the red plaid flannel out of his closet. He remembered me mentioning that one. She could tell by the smirk on his face when their fingers glided over each other for the exchange.

She’d tugged off the skirt and kept on her panties. Once the shirt was buttoned over her chest she performed that age old magic trick and extracted her bra from the sleeve. He smiled, dipped into what was obviously his preferred side of the bed, and tapped the mattress. A stretched arm readied to cradle her. She curled in, careful not to hit him with a faceful of her hair which she’d normally have in a ponytail to sleep. I’ll give him this tonight, since he likes it down. He was the big spoon in this particular scenario, the other arm draped around her waist, locking her into position. She sighed. Just the right amount of warmth.

Her heart sped at the closeness. Anticipation built, expecting the inevitable exploration of her skin, curves, folds, wetness. She waited, trying to regulate the stilted breath. That’s when it happened.

Dean snored.

His heavy, steady breathing blew near her ear.

Hero, yes. Superhero? Eh. Still falls asleep pretty quickly after an orgasm. Poor guy. It certainly took a lot out of him. A smile crept over her lips. God, his face was absolute perfection when he came. If a look can trigger ovulation, that did it.

She closed her eyes and took in the scents of the room along with sounds of Dean slumbering. The underlying spice and mix of whatever pheromone Dean gave off sleeping next to her was heady and made it hard to smell much else. Even his sweat is a turn-on. She focused to pick out the other odors layered beneath. Bourbon, leather, something metallic, and maybe gunpowder?

The desk lamp had been left on, forgotten. Her gaze returned to the tiny pictures on top of the simple oak dresser. She wanted to get a better look at his family in the morning. Wanted to ask why he never mentioned his mom. Nothing recent. Old pictures. Old memories. Old heartaches? Maybe she left a long time ago? Died? The thought made her heart ache for the little boy who looked so happy in his mom’s embrace.

She was on edge from having given him head, expecting Dean to finish what they’d started quite soon after. She was slippery and swollen between her legs. Julie always enjoyed that particular act; especially with Steve, who’d been fairly well-endowed himself. But, not as big or pretty as Dean’s. Never thought I’d call a penis pretty.

Dean adjusted, curled up even tighter against her. His dead weight leaned into her. The sounds of his breathing; the promise of him being inside her; they all made it difficult to drift off to sleep. But she did. Eventually.

Julie shifted the car into Park once she found a good spot in the shopping center lot. Ina had pointed out her own car down the row. Her forlorn expression from the passenger seat stared out the windshield. “He’s such a friendly boy. He’ll run to just about anyone willing to show him a lick of affection.”

“Don’t assume the worst. There could be a good samaritan who’s taking great care of him right now.”

Ina sighed. She was such a tiny, slim little thing, even shorter than Julie’s mom. The compact car seat she occupied appeared massive in comparison. “You’re right. And, it hasn’t even been a day yet since he got out of the yard.”

Julie unbuckled her belt. “Where did you say you live again?”

Ina wrapped a few strands of her long and shiny, raven-colored hair behind an ear. Her mocha brown complexion was flawless, ageless. Julie was curious as to how old she actually was. “Um, just down the road in Fairwind.”

“Nice neighborhood. I couldn’t find anything available when I was looking months ago.”

Ina only nodded.

Julie waited, expecting a dump of information. She’d only met this woman three times, but she’d been a flood of words the other two instances. When there was none, Julie cleared her throat. She had a busy day ahead. And a man she was dying to see later. “Well, how about you grab me some flyers so I can drop them off at a few places?”

“Yep, I’ve got ‘em in the back seat.” Julie nodded, expecting her to exit, retrieve, and bring them back. All of a sudden, Ina burst into tears. Her narrow shoulders dropped forward and hands covered her face. “My Cocoa Bear.”

God, she was taking it really hard. Julie patted her on the shoulder. “It’s going to be alright, Ina. Come on, I’ll walk you to your car. Sooner we get them posted, the sooner you get him back home.”

She sniffled, stared at Julie, and nodded. “Okay.”

The day was sunny, warm and a tad humid. Julie shut her car door and followed Ina to her spot. A good workout would focus the tension and excitement she was battling within her mind. The night before had been restless. All she’d thought about was Dean, his hands, mouth, and that voice encouraging her to let go and whispering filthy promises before Cas showed up.

The chirp as Ina unlocked the car door melted Dean’s green eyes from Julie’s vision. Ina opened the back door and motioned to the seat. “Got a whole box full. Spent most of the morning at the copy store.” She was still sniffling. “Take as many as you want.”

Julie smiled and leaned in. A strong whiff of incense hit her nose. The back seat was not the tidiest. She drifted back to being in Dean’s immaculate Baby the night before. She lifted the lid off the folder box and grabbed a handful. The black lab’s smiling, panting face stared back from the papers. “Cocoa certainly has a great mom.” The offhand comment left Julie’s lips as she pulled out of the car and turned back to face Ina.

“I’ll be sure to tell him that.” Ina smiled and grabbed Julie’s wrist. The touch was strong and quite unexpected from the petite woman. A flash of blue filled in the black irises of Ina’s eyes. Julie shook her head. Maybe she was more exhausted than she thought. Her mouth opened at the strange henna colored markings emerging, pushing through Ina’s skin. She felt cold. A stinging. Like bees. “Such a help you’ve been, Julie.” Her eyes flashed electric again. “Hm. You’re going to taste so sweet.”

Julie woke, gasping for air in the low light. The arms wrapped tight around her were huge. Her heart pumped. She heard the snort behind her and slowly recognized the space.

Dean.

He stirred and grunted, pulled her closer. “Hm.” It was not a moan of concern. He sounded content.

What the hell was that shit?

“Jules?” His lips were by her ear now. “Okay?” His deep voice scratched out the question.

She nodded into the pillow, feeling his biceps clench under her neck. “Yeah. I’m good. This-this is nice.” She brushed the hairs along his forearm. “I’m... just going to go use the bathroom.”

He pecked at her neck. His head dropped back. “This is nice.” He affirmed in a far away voice. She slithered out from under his embrace and stood by the side of the bed, inspecting his relaxed face. Closed eyes, slightly parted lips. “Coming back?”

“Of course.” She whispered, frowning at the question. “Go back to sleep, Dean.”

“K.” He nudged his nose into the pillow. The sight made her heart ache. He looked peaceful, younger, cares washed away if only for a short while. She wondered how soft and still his cheeks and lips would feel then, not clenched in heated anticipation or want. He floated into his own dreamland. She wondered as she spotted his eyes tracking something under his lids. But she didn’t dare disturb. Something tells me you deserve all the good dreams, Dean Winchester.

Julie tiptoed out of the room, grabbing her phone off the desk before she left, and headed into the bathroom. She clicked on the overhead light, shut the door and sat on the toilet seat. Cool porcelain against the back of her thighs was reminiscent of Ina’s frigid grasp in her dream. Nightmare? Memory? What the hell was that? A shiver started at her shoulders and trickled down her spine. She sat up straight.

One of the way too long sleeves drooped over Julie’s hand. Bringing the fabric up to her nose, she inhaled the embedded Dean scent under the detergent. The inhales and exhales dragged out slow.

Her eyes took in the functional, clean surroundings of his nicely updated bathroom. Modern, smokey grey subway tiles, lined with a lighter grey grout, had been installed with care on the floor. Her toes dug into the cushioned powder blue rug that ran the length of the walk-in shower and ended in front of the throne. Actually a pretty comfy seat.

There were fancy chrome faucets and sprayers behind clear, pristine glass doors. Those doors were a pain to clean at the old house. I was always lazy about that. Got dull and filmy. But, these? Not a water spot to be spotted. Impressive. A veined grey and white marble shower interior looked sleek and expensive. A pedestal sink and rather large mirror resided next to a repurposed bookcase storing rows of plushy grey and white towels, toiletries and male necessities. She made a mental note of the cologne he wore. The robe on the door hook produced a grin. He’d look like Hugh Hefner in that.

I wonder if he did all these updates. If not, he paid someone a decent amount of cash to renovate and make it really nice. Was it in horrible condition when he moved in or is this a really important space for him? File that question away for later.

The nosey inventorying of Dean’s bathroom had distracted her. She then realized she should probably pee and dropped her panties and situated for the task. Her hands grabbed the forgotten phone lying nearby on the tile. She rifled through messages. There had been a handful from Cat, who’d been checking up on her daily since finding out about the ordeal.

How you holdin’ up? Let me know if you want me to bring Sal and Pep by to run amok in your backyard.

I’m not sure if this is going to help… found something, I think, related to Dean.

Check in with me soon, K?

I think it’s important for you to have all the details.

Ciao Bella.

Her stomach flipped at the one line she read over and over. I’m not sure if this is going to help… found something, I think, related to Dean.

“No.” She whispered. “Shit.” She wanted to remain ignorant. Live in this fantasy space with him for a little longer. Reality was only going to complicate things and make her question everything.

Maybe, though… maybe this is fate intervening.

She groaned.

But, he’s hot and sweet and even makes grumpy sexy. Makes me laugh. Makes me feel safe. What details are going to change all of those inherently authentic things about him?

Maybe it’s something about his family. His mom. Could fit some pieces together.

A low rap on the door shot her head up. “Jules? You okay in there?”

“Y-yeah.” She squeaked out. “Why?”

“Been gone twenty minutes.”

Shit. She frowned, stood, and pulled her panties up. A quick flush and washing of hands followed.

Upon opening the door, a wary smile met her in the dark hallway. Dean leaned into the door frame and inspected her. “Your side of the bed was getting cold.”

She waved her phone, identifying it as the culprit. “Lost track of time.”

“Can’t sleep?” He stepped closer, hesitant. He’s feeling me out. Waiting to see if I’ll hit the panic button. “Do you want me to take you home, sweetheart? Maybe you’ll sleep better. This bed’s not the comfiest.” He sighed. “I miss my memory foam.”

“Do you want me to go home?” she asked.

“God, no.” His still not quite awake features frowned. “I haven’t slept that solid in forever.”

She grinned. “That’s not because of me. That’s because you waited weeks to do what you should have been doing.”

His face lit up at her lightened attitude. “You had a little something to do with it.” He tugged at the hem of his shirt right above Julie’s knees. “Come back to bed, baby.”

Julie swallowed down a moan. Reality can wait until tomorrow. She nodded.

That smile flashed. The one that gave her a front seat to all his pearly whites. He led the way back down the hall. Low light from the open bedroom door split right between his bowlegs. He was a bulk, wholesale package of muscles and strength. She laughed when he spun and flung his body on the bed, making the headboard creak and the mattress bounce. It took some seconds for the motion to subside.

“Are you trying to break it?”

He shrugged and smirked. “Just prepping it for the workout it’s going to get soon.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You really haven’t…”

He shook his head. “No one else’s been in this bed except for me… until now. And, you’ve got me fully believin’ there’s a lot more in store. Italians do do it better. At least this full-blooded Italian sex kitten standing right here in front of me does.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Even with the comical expression on his face, she managed to feel heat rush to her cheeks. “How do you know I’m full…” She shook her head and strolled to the bed, dropping onto the mattress with as much grace as she could muster. A suggestive scoot closer had him do the same. She leaned her head upon an elbow to match his positioning. “You’ve investigated my ancestry, too? What did you do, grab a DNA sample?”

His free hand cupped her jaw. He leaned in and licked her mouth open. “Both parents from Italy. That’s as far as I went. This is as close to banging Sophia Loren in her heyday as I’m gonna get.” Peridot eyes sparkled in the dim light. “Say something in Italian.”

She groaned. “I don’t speak it well. I mean, I’ve listened to my mom and dad speak it a ton growing up. But, it never really stuck up here.” She tapped the side of her forehead. “And, Sophia Loren, really?”

Dean shrugged. “Lots of Sunday afternoons in front of the television growing up. Plus, she was smokin’ hot.” The hand skirted over her neck and shoulder, along the curves and dips of her back to rest on an ass cheek. “Try. For me.” He pushed her body in to meet his, fingers squeezing the globe. “Please.”

She sighed and shut her lids. Electric pulses flowed at the feel of him everywhere they connected. He was tight and rigid. Hot and hard. Her eyes opened, drowning into those beautiful eyes, and then she whispered, “Che cosa vuoi?”

She watched his smile double in size. “What the hell does that mean?” An innocent wonder filled his face, in direct opposition of the clothed erection he rubbed into the slit of her thighs. “And say it again.”

She giggled and moaned at the same time. “It means what do you want? Che cosa vuoi?”

“Che cosa vuoi?” He repeated. The deep throttle in his voice strummed into her core. She bit her lip at how sexy the foreign words, though stilted and choppy, dripped from that luxurious mouth. Dean’s eyes narrowed in focus. A thumb swiped over her bottom lip. “How do you say ‘kiss you’?”

The apples of her cheeks rose. “Ti bacio.”

“Ti bacio.” He repeated that as well, planting a delicate kiss, cradling her jaw. “How about ‘be inside you’?” His brows did a quick double rise.

She moaned, flustered at the request. “I don’t know. Inside is ‘dentro’. I’ll work on my translations for next time.”

Using his bodyweight, Dean collapsed Julie onto her back in a second. Air whooshed out of her lungs. He’d tucked his forearms under her armpits, the crook of his elbows wedging in place. Strong hands emerged alongside and caged her face and forced her back to arch into him. “Hm.” He licked her mouth. Her jaw dropped open at the way he manipulated and immobilized her head with those meaty fingers. The tongue swirled and dipped in the wetness of her mouth. “Dentro.” He mumbled. His ability to dominate and overpower ignited her skin. Lumberjack thighs parted her comparatively smaller ones. The boxer briefed cock rutted against her damp panties, wiggling into position and only increasing her fluid production.

“Dean…” She whispered.

Lips moved to her neck. His scruff burned like sandpaper against the skin. “Say my name again, sweetheart.” The words poured out hot and impatient.

“Dean.”

Dean groaned. He bit into the flesh along her collar bone. Julie gasped. Then, he sucked and worried at the same spot of skin with pursed lips and the tip of his tongue. All the while sliding his erection into the material along the folds of her pussy. He leaned up and locked eyes with her. Whatever air left in her lungs released at the raw, worn beauty of this man. “Really wanna be inside you, Jules.”

Hands she realized she’d been using to grip onto his back clenched the rippling muscles.

His lips parted, breath even. “Can we? Will you be alright?” He searched her face, she knew, for some hint of hesitance. “If it’s too soon after all of it…”

“Dean…”

His lids closed at hearing his name. “I don’t only mean what's happened recently. I mean, that’s its own bag of crap that no one, especially you, should have ever had to go through.” Eyes opened as he continued to dry hump her in the most amazing way, unhurried yet purposeful. “But, all of it… after Steve…” He sighed, relishing the feel as much as she was. “We could just keep it fun, simple, easy… just like this.”

“Surface level?” Julie questioned, gauging him now.

He smirked. “That’s your guaranteed best experience with me. No muss, no fuss.” In an instant, the carefree gesture washed away. “You want me to be honest with you. There’s a lot, Jules…”

Her lids pressed tight together. “I did say that, didn’t I? Can you be honest with me, then, in this moment, right here and now?”

His arms untangled from his stronghold. She felt the shift of his body, him pull away, leaning into the crook of her side now. Shit, why did I ask him that? “Yes.” The word came out sure, laced with heavy conviction.

Julie took a deep breath and opened her eyes. When his eyes met hers, he didn’t waver, waiting, hovering.

“Any plans on hurting me?” He raised a brow. She shook her head and tried not to laugh. “Besides kinky plans.”

A curl of a smile. “No. Of course not.”

“Are you scared about being honest with me?”

Dean shifted on his elbow, his eyes breaking contact.

That was an answer in and of itself, but Julie tried again. You don’t ask a man like Dean Winchester if he’s scared. “Worried?”

Dean’s finger played with one of her curls. He breathed in, then spoke on the release of air. “My life was… is, still complicated. Not many people would be able to understand. Or, want to.”

She nodded, took the words time to settle around them. “Why’d you put your life at risk to search for me?”

“Aside from it being in my DNA?” His eyes drifted back and stared at her mouth. “I didn’t want to lose you. I just found you.”

She smiled. A stinging in her eyes threatened to release tears. But she batted them away with quick blinks. “That’s all the honesty I need for tonight, then.” Dean smiled. His eyes were glassy, too, and that made Julie’s heart stop for some seconds. Fingers reached up and stroked his jaw. “Maybe another question.”

Dean’s head dropped in a dramatic fashion. His brows crinkled and his eyes narrowed, accompanied by a hard stare. “One more, sweetheart.” The authoritative tone was back and Julie’s arousal returned.

“Who’s made you feel safe?” She asked, her voice trembling.

His head tilted at the question. A foreign mix of wonder and confusion spread over his face. “What do you mean?”

“Who, in your life, made you feel really safe?” She rephrased.

Dean did that mental rolodex thing she’d come to enjoy witnessing. His eyes darted away and his lips did a slight tuck back into his mouth. Julie’s stomach twisted at how long it took him to find an answer. But, she saw him come up with one. His lips popped back out. The right side of his mouth angled up. When he turned to her he stated, “Baby.”

At first, Julie thought he was calling her another term of endearment. The word finally connected in her brain to the subject matter. “Your car?”

He smiled.

Julie could feel the frown form on her lips. “What about your parents?”

“No, sweetheart.” His smile remained, though it appeared forced. “They tried. I know they did. And, maybe I felt safe before I could really remember what that was... when I was really little.” He shrugged. “Baby’s always been there. Made me feel safe. Made me feel like I had a home. Somewhere I could hide, ride.” Dean collapsed onto the mattress, on his back.

Julie shot up, leaned on an elbow to study his face. The moment was awkward, clumsy now. I’ve fucked it all up.

Dean shook his head and chuckled.

“What?”

“Sweetheart, no one’s ever asked me that before.” His lips tightened. He reached up and grasped the side of her neck. Fingers threaded into her hair, leading her face so he could study her again. “Why would you ask me that?”

Her mouth opened, then closed. “I-”

“Why would you care?” Dean interrupted. No malice in the tone. Only genuine curiosity.

That triggered a response. “Why wouldn’t I? You make me feel safe. I wanted to know a little about the person that made you feel the same way. Figure out how-” she bit her lip and tore away from his eyes.

“What?” He prodded, tilting his head on the mattress to catch her expression under the waves of cascading hair.

She struggled with the words. “Figure out how I can make you feel safe.”

His brows knit together.

“When I left this bed earlier, you asked me if I was coming back.”

That distant, unsure look flooded his face again. “That didn’t mean anything.”

She smiled. And pushed. “I’ll always come back, Dean. If that’s what you want, what will make you feel safe. You deserve that, same as everyone else.”

His green eyes widened.

Her whole body was on fire, staring back at him. It wasn’t arousal or want. She felt exposed, emotions laid out to be either scooped up or tossed away. It had not been in any way how she expected this night to turn. But, now, in the moment, it felt necessary, needed. “I’m sorry.”

Dean’s face hardened. His mouth opened a fraction. That tongue swiped the back of his bottom row of white teeth. “We done with the questions?” The hold on her neck released.

She sat up straight and tucked some hair behind an ear. Confusion flooded her brain. “Yeah.” He hopped off the bed and wandered around the mattress to his dresser. All she could stare at was the back of him, which in any other circumstance would be quite pleasant. But she wanted to garner something, anything from his expression.

A loud sigh left his mouth. “You really are something.” His head shook. The profile presented itself as he bent at the knees to rifle through his record collection. “I don’t get anything out of you for weeks and then you hit me like a ton of bricks with everything in less than a day.” Dean didn’t look over, kept his eyes on the albums. His jaw clenched when he found something, slid out the sleeve from its confines and pulled out a record. A confident twirl of the album between his hands as he rose, the sleeve forgotten on the floor.

The record rested on the turntable. A flip switched. There was crackle and static. The record spun. The speaker waited for the track to play. Dean turned and stared at Julie. He flipped her heart the way he had the album. “I was hoping to make this last. But, you’ve made that impossible now, Jules.” Arms rose over his head. Fingers tugged at the collar and he pulled the t-shirt off in an elegant peel. “I was thinking, maybe, I could hold out for a few songs. But, it’s probably only gonna be one. And, if it’s only gonna be one...” He pointed at the flannel she wore. “Take off my shirt.”

“What?”

His right eyebrow cocked. “You said you were done with questions.”

Her mouth dried up.

Finally, a smile returned. “And, don’t say you’re sorry to me. Not again.” He shook his head. “Not ever.” A stride filled with that Dean confidence made its way to the nightstand. Two fingers pulled open the drawer. He bent down and rummaged. The tap of a foil package hit the table’s surface. A knee closed the drawer.

Julie knew this was coming tonight. Had been hoping, praying even, that nothing else would prevent this from happening. The nerves, the fright, the reality of it had made her hesitate with a pool of muddy, emotional thoughts instead of pure passion and action. Then, when she thought she had fucked it all up, with the words and the estrogen induced interrogation, this complication of a beautiful man had gotten the train back on track. But even scarier, he now seemed to be all aboard with the idea of making this night mean so much more.

“Come over here, baby.” He patted the mattress in front of his standing figure.

Julie gulped and crawled over the mess of sheets and sat on the edge of the bed. Her head tilted up. He grabbed her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “So very pretty.” She thought he must have been commenting on how he looked, perfection in light and shadow. “Take it off.” The command was soft.

Her hands found the buttons and did not spare any time to strip herself of the shirt.

His smile widened along with his eyes. “Eager, too, huh?”

She smiled.

“Good. I won’t feel so bad when this is over in minutes.” He tore the foil package open and put it back on the table. His fingertips delved into the hair at the top of her head, combed down through to end at the swell of her left breast. He pressed his warm palm right over her heart. “You know how you hear a song and you connect it to a specific memory?”

She nodded.

Dean licked his lips and catalogued every inch of her breasts with a stare that melted her insides. “I have lots of memories with this one song. All good, maybe even great. Someone might even say this song makes me feel safe.”

Julie swallowed.

“Wanna make me feel safe, sweetheart?” He grinned.

“Yes, Dean.” She didn’t hesitate in her response.

“Alright, then.” Dean broke eye contact and walked back to the record player. He cocked his head and smiled at Julie. “We’re gonna work on our night moves, baby.”

Dean could have said they were going to work on their taxes and Julie knew it would sound just as fucking sexy.

He dropped the needle in place and made a beeline toward her. A guitar strummed and filled the room. He dipped down, caught her lips with his open mouth. His arms wrapped her up, laid her down on the bed. Once again, the weight of him pressed against her side. She moaned when he rose up to his knees on the mattress, disconnecting. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, and pulled them down past her hips. She brought her own knees up to assist. His lips mouthed to the lyrics as he removed the last of her clothing. Her lips tugged up at the show.

She was a black-haired beauty with big dark eyes ***

And points all her own sitting way up high

He tossed the panties to the floor and ran his hands up the length of her body, stopping to massage her breasts and give her nipples a slight twist. He mouthed the next line.

Way up firm and high

Julie giggled. He flopped down on his back, flesh of their arms rubbing, and without pomp or circumstance, pulled off his boxer briefs, singing along this time.

Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy

Out in the back seat of my '60 Chevy

Workin' on mysteries without any clues

He fell silent now. Turned to stare at Julie. He held the open condom wrapper between two fingers and raised his brows again. She nodded. A low growl bubbled up from his throat. Her eyes dipped down to watch him work his cock. She knew it wouldn’t take long. She wanted to speak, say something. Every other time he’d wanted to hear her voice. But this time is different.

And we'd steal away every chance we could

To the backroom, to the alley or the trusty woods

I used her, she used me

But neither one cared

We were gettin' our share

He rolled the condom over his erection. His body rolled between her waiting thighs. The dominance and power was gone from the way he hovered. He kissed her lips, slow and easy. His fingers slipped into her wetness. He moaned into her mouth and lubed up his sheathed erection with her want. Every cell sparked under her skin. The tip of him poking with insistence at her entrance.

Tryin' to lose the awkward teenage blues

Workin' on our night moves

And it was summertime

Sweet summertime summertime

All of the instruments stopped for a second, then resumed their rhythm. Dean searched Julie’s face again. It was all there in those apple green eyes. The request, the need, the want. He wanted to speak, too, she could sense it. But this time is different. He pushed inside her, slow and easy, letting her accept, adjust, and respond to him as Mr. Seger sang.

And oh the wonder

We felt the lightning

And we waited on the thunder

Waited on the thunder

He didn’t ask if she was ready. He didn’t need to. Because this time is different.

He pulled back, eased inside again. His forearms held his body up for part of the sway. But when he tunnelled back, nice and slow at first, the delicious friction of his chest ran along her hard nipples. This wasn’t going to take long. Because this time is different. His pace increased, breath fumed out of his nose, jaw clenched every time he bottomed into her fully.

Dean’s rhythm was quick and steady now, firm and prodding, as the song did the exact opposite and slowed in its reminiscence. Heat rose in her core. He grabbed one of her legs, propped it up to hook onto his hip. His eyes never left hers through any of it. He found that spot deep inside. And worked. Hard. She gasped at how he lit her up from within. Grabbed his shoulders and held on. While he worked.

I awoke last night to the sound of thunder

How far off I sat and wondered

Started humming a song from 1962

She wrapped her calf tight, draped it over the curve of his tight ass muscles. He was using all of himself, drilling into her now. The sound of wood creaking, mattress springs straining. Moans toppled and stacked atop each other.

Ain't it funny how the night moves

When you just don't seem to have as much to lose

Strange how the night moves

With autumn closing in

The music stopped again. Dean stilled, froze. His forehead leaned against hers. “Baby?” He whispered.

“Yes, Dean.”

“You feel so safe.”

He pulled back and she got lost in his eyes. Her heart lodged up into her throat. He nodded with a smile and exhaled, sharp and low, as the guitar started up again. His fingers snuck between their bodies, strummed her clit. And he worked. All of him. With her. This is different.

She studied every movement of his face. The vertical line that formed between his brow, deep in concentration. The little craters that appeared above either side of his top lip, embedding into laugh lines, when he quirked up his mouth. The flare of his nostrils. The look she tried to define in his crystal green eyes boring into her, shining like glass. He brought her to release and rode the wave. His moans enveloped hers. She clenched her walls, tightening around him.

The end of the song was near and so was Dean. His mouth opened, he struggled out a strangled groan, body rigid in her embrace. And he came. Hard. His body shivered. He grinned, kissed her lips, and rolled them both to their sides. Still. Connected. This is different.

The song ended. Quiet for a few moments before the next track began. Dean swiped at her cheek. Julie felt the wetness under the pad of his thumb. She was crying. Oh, no.

Dean smiled. Pulled her in close and held her. He kissed her forehead. She forced away the tears, slowed her breathing. “Tell me those are good tears, sweetheart.” He whispered in her ear.

She nodded along the scruff of his jaw.

Kisses dabbed at her damp cheeks. “Good. Because we just made one hell of an awesome memory.”

She smiled. He kissed the apple of her cheek.

He moaned, pulled out of her, then stood up. Naked and glorious. He rolled off the condom as he spoke and tied it up. “Gotta use the bathroom. Coming back.” He wandered to the doorway, then turned back to look at her with a wide grin. “Always coming back.”

*** Lyrics from Night Moves by Bob Seger

~~~~~

Part 18

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