Taking the key out of the ignition, you pick up the half fallen asleep child in the seat beside you. Placing him on your hip as you shut the door to the rusted old truck.
Walking up the familiar gravel road to a large wooden porch, lights are shinning indicating people are home. A man you've never seen sits out on one of the chairs, and you hear faint talking from indoors.
Opening the screen door, the smell of familiarity and home surrounds you. All the childhood memories instantly hitting you as you walk into the farmhouse.
"Daddy? Maggie? Beth?" You call out, trying not to wake your son held carefully in your arms. But loud enough to grab someone's attention.
Soon your father walks out of the spare bedroom, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and sweat lining his brow. His eyes as soft as you remembered and his grown white beard lining most of his face.
"Sweetheart." He whispers lovingly, walking towards you. Taking both you and your son in for a hug.
"Hi daddy," You smile, and set your little boy down on the hardwood flooring as he'd fully woken up. "can you say hi to grandpa Hershel baby?"
The four year old grins widely up at the older man, before running off towards the kitchen.
Laughing, your father turns back to you. "Been a while since I've seen that beautiful face, yours too."
"I know." You sigh, wishing you saw your family more. But once you got married, you had moved a ways away. And the drive back home wasn't always the easiest to make.
"How's he doing? And Daryl, how is he?" Your father asks about your son and husband. As you go to answer, you see Patrica exit the same bedroom from the corner of your eye.
" He's doing fine," You tell him regarding your son. "Daryl's good too... At least I hope."
"He's not with you?"
Shaking your head, that same sting of pain hits your heart. The aching for your husband growing stronger. "We got separated, when this all started. And I went looking for him but I decided it was best that we both come on home."
Your father nods understandingly, but can clearly see the pain on your face.
"He'll find you," He assures you, bringing you into another warm embrace. "the Lord always has a plan."
A slight squeal makes you release the hug you hold your father in and look up, to see your slightly younger sister running towards you.
Her brown curls bouncing, and her arms grasping you into a hug.
"Oh I've missed you." She exclaims, and you see Beth hugging your son in the kitchen. Hearing more sounds of happiness float through the house.
"Me too Maggie, been too long since the last visit."
Pulling back, she continues to smile at you. "Daryl here? Where is that darn redneck huh?"
Laughing softly, you soon turn somber shaking your head.
"Can I ask," You pause, changing the subject. "who that man on the porch is?"
"Oh," Maggie nods, and walks me to the slightly open door to the extra bedroom. "His names Glenn. And that's Carl, his father Rick and mother Lori."
Peaking in, you see a small boy-- a few years older than your own-' laying in the bed. Pale and sweating. A crying mother, and man who looked as though he was going to pass out hovering over him.
"Otis shot him," Beth says, coming up from behind to hug you. "on accident though."
"Where did they come from? I mean where have they been all this time?" You wonder curiously.
"Said something about a interstate but they were also searching the woods. Apparently they lost a little girl."
Sighing you can't imagine if either one of those things happened to your boy. Watching him giggling away in the kitchen, his deep blue eyes shinning bright.
After a few hours, you settle in upstairs in the room beside Maggie's. The one that used to be yours.
The house has a split feeling to it; the depressed sadness for the fighting child downstairs. But joyful feeling of seeing family again, your boy enjoying time with grandpa and Aunts.
Walking down the stairs, after taking a short shower and changing into clean night time clothing, you spot you little boy sitting on a chair looking out the window.
He had a bath early on, and although it felt better to see him clean, it reminded you of your husband. How Daryl always liked to run baths for the boy at night, and sit with him on the floor as he washed his hair. Time for just the two of them.
"What are you doin baby?" You ask, walking up behind him and running a hand gently through his soft brown locks. The ones he got from his father.
"Waitin fo daddy." His voice is so innocent; so much so it breaks your heart just a bit.
Your son would wait by the window back home every time Daryl went on a long hunt that stretched a few days, or off to a job he had in a couple towns over. And every time he would wait, and watch, and jump up when he saw him walking up the driveway.
You didn't have the heart to tell him that he wasn't going to be seeing daddy walking up that driveway tonight.
"You been separated this while time?" Maggie asks as you walk in the kitchen to grab some water.
Nodding, you grab a glass. Filling it with cool water.
"Everyday I still feel this hope that we'll find each other," You pause taking a sip. "I just don't know how realistic it is anymore."
You let out a light laugh; not because it's funny but because you're trying to mask the tears building in your throat.
"How's Carl doing?" You ask.
Maggie shrugs, "Still out. But daddy's gotta get the bullets out."
It's silent after that, the faint sounds of the wind outside and light cries coming from a saddened mother in the other room echoing in the old farmhouse.
"Daddy! Daddy!" The sound of your four year old happily telling catches your attention, and even more so when he runs to push the screen door open.
Resting your glass down on the counter you go after him, as he runs down the steps into the dark night. The porch lights only shinning so far.
You watch him, as you stop at the railing, run into the arms of someone bending down. Large arms wrapping around his back, and the distant chattering of your child.
Walking down the steps, and getting closer to the scene you see it then. That your boy was right.
The man who stands up; as your boy continues to hug his leg, is his father. Your husband.
Dressed in a sweat stained, blood and dirt coated plaid shirt, one you can't really remember how it looked like when it was clean. He looks to you, his face that held tears running down his tanned skin, now held a even softer emotion as he met your gaze.
"Daryl?" You breathe out softly, before heavy sobs rack your body.
Your body shaking as you cry, your feet planted in place. But soon large warm arms make their way around you, pulling you into his chest.
"Shh," He whispers, his hand pressing to your head as he holds you closer to him. "it's me baby. I'm home, I'm here."
That only makes you cry harder as you feel him begin to cry again as well.
Everything you couldn't feel and couldn't show in front of your young son was coming out now, all the pain and love pouring out right then.
"Daddy?" A soft voice coming from your little boy tugging on his shirt, pulls you both apart.
Picking the small child up into his arms, he looks hopefully to his father.
"Are ye gonna leave 'gain?" His voice yet so soft and small, holds the thick southern accent that Daryl's holds.
Daryl lets out the softest breath, shaking his head. Kissing his son's forehead and then bringing you closer to kiss yours, he speaks up.
"I ain't goin no where. Stayin right here."
There in the dark night, you were all reunited. A family who found each other; and a bundle of love back in his arms.
A/N: this one had me crying just a little❤