ᴀɴɢᴜɪsʜ » ᴅᴀʀʏʟ ᴅɪxᴏɴ

{19} Cherokee Tales.

What sounded like a groan cut through the thin air. With curiosity, Willow turns her head to see Daryl sit down in the chair Hershel previously sat. He wiggles in the chair with embarrassment. One hand rubbed the back of his neck, while the other play with something in the middle of his palm.

Daryl raised his glance, shades of cyan blue sparkle from underneath his relaxed brows. Flushed, and flustered by his mere glance, Willow sat herself up. She clears her throat, wishing he would quit watching her every move.

"You had them worried, " Daryl tells her lowly, "Thought you were dead or bitten. Jodie - she wouldn't shut up when we got back."

Willow laughed at the thought of Daryl and Jodie going at it. Jodie's sarcastic remarks and Daryl's uncontrollable mouth.

"With Sophia missin' - Carl injured, you gotta understand their worry." Daryl paused, "if it were me - I'd feel the same way."

"But I'm fine. I made it back with your help. She knew you would keep me safe. That is why she asked you, " Willow responds.

Daryl shook his head, "That ain' my point. You nearly had them scared shitless back on the highway. How do ya thank they felt this time?"

Willow shifts, still not completely understanding the big deal. She wanted to but she just couldn't.

"I don't-" she starts but Daryl's stern expression causes her to take a pause.

"Willow."

"No lawyer this time?"

"Shut up and listen, " Daryl leans forward and placed the item that he had been holding next to her on the bed. "Last time, when you and Sophia went missing, we thought you both were gone. I was the first to suggest that we look for y'all. Jodie was a mess. If I weren't there or here now, you wouldn't be lookin' at me with that stupid attitude. Rick is right. Ya have people who care about you."

While Daryl spoke, Willow reaches for the small item he had placed beside her. Surprised by the gift, she allows the delicate flower to slip between her fingers. Placing the single picked flower onto the palm of her hand, she brushes her fingertips against the waxy white petals.

This is strange, even for a Dixon. She never imagined Daryl to do something so, soft. She believed the Dixon's were cold-hearted men, wanting nothing in this world but pain and suffering. Daryl Dixon, the man who wanted to cast Willow out is showing compassion. Proving everyone wrong.

"This is for me?" Willow sucks in.

Daryl sat one elbow on his knee, resting his chin upon the middle of his palm. He admires the reaction. Perfectly at peace for once in his life.

Raising his other hand, he points towards the flower resting on her own.

"It's a Cherokee Rose. The story is that when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land on 'Trail of Tears'. The Cherokee mothers were grieving and cryin' so much 'cause they were losin' their little ones along the way. From exposure, and disease, and starvation. But a lot of them just disappeared. So the elders, they said a prayer; Asked a sign uplift the mothers' spirits, give them strength, and hope. Next day this rose started grown' right where the mothers' tears fell."

Daryl grew silent, now fumbling with the Sharktooth necklace. Willow sat frozen, mesmerized by the story. Cherishing the small flower.

"Gave one to Carol too. Told her - they were bloomin' for Sophia." Daryl shook his head.

"But Daryl, I'm - I'm not a mother."

"You are. Jodie was a kid when you took her in. You raised her. And I saw how you would look at Sophia and how you froze hearing about Carl. You're a mother just as much as Carol or Lori." Daryl says.