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AN: Here we are. It’s just a little oneshot for my sometimes Cyreese anon on Tumblr, and of course, for anyone else who wants to enjoy it.
It can absolutely be read alone, but it’s sort of loosely part of a series. If you’re interested in the others (so far), you can read “The Christmas Gift,” and “Everything Blooms in Spring.” (I do have other Cyreese stuff, but those are kind of related to this, in that order.)
They never went to Terminus and Lizzie’s not crazy (though more of that is sort of explained in the story).
I own nothing from the Walking Dead.
If you choose to read, I hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to let me know what you think!
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“You’ve gotta put all the edges down first,” Lizzie insisted. “You’ve got to! So, you know where to put the rest, isn’t that right, Daddy?”
Tyreese was growing accustomed to being “Daddy” to the three little girls that were, in absolutely no way at all, related to him. Circumstances had brought them all together and, now, it really looked as though he’d be spending the rest of his life simply helping to keep his little patched-together family alive.
The girls called him Daddy, and they called Carol, the woman he called his wife, by the title of Mama, despite the fact that she was no more biologically related to a single one of the girls than he was.
Between them, they had Lizzie, who they assumed was about twelve—since Carol was beginning to get nervous about preparing Lizzie for the day when the little girl would first show signs of womanhood, as she put it delicately. Lizzie was their intense and, sometimes difficult, child. She required something to occupy her mind at all times, and she dove into projects with almost unbreakable focus. She was already learning to be an asset to Tyreese, in particular, as he worked on things to keep their little homestead up and running and, beyond that, constantly growing and improving. Their middle child was Mika, and she and Lizzie were the only two that were biologically related. Carol called her “the sweet one,” and she wasn’t wrong. Mika was a very sweet girl. She was also practically Carol’s shadow. She liked cooking, cleaning, gardening, and tending to anything that would let her take care of it—including the baby dolls that they’d found for her to rock and feed with bottles full of imagination. The youngest was Judith. Her interests, at the moment, were toddling and getting into things. She was an expert at making messes, and she loved for her older sisters to build block towers for her that she could crash to the floor.
There was a fourth, among them, but so far only Carol and Tyreese knew about the little thing’s existence.
Carol would insist that any change to her figure was owing to simple, gained weight or, perhaps, to overindulgence in some food or another. Tyreese liked teasing her, in the quiet of their bedroom and in their stolen time together, that overindulgence might have caused the new, albeit small, curves of her body, but it wasn’t overindulgence of food.
The truth was that Tyreese noticed the way that her tummy protruded outward, now, more than it ever had before because he felt like he was watching a part of his own heart blossom and grow into something so much greater than what it had been before. They’d both lost a great deal in this world, thanks to the deathly virus that seemed to have consumed the world around them. The barely noticeable slope of Carol’s abdomen, usually tucked beneath the loosest clothing she could find, at least until Tyreese could make a run for a few extra garments that would grow with her, was the first proof they had that this world still intended to offer them life instead of simply offering them death.
Tyreese was unaccustomed to loving someone quite the way that he loved Carol. He’d been married before—and happily—but each love was a little different. He was also unaccustomed to being loved in quite the same way that she loved him. She’d been married before, as well, and her husband had taught her everything bad that a man could be. He had taught her to expect cruelty and abuse. Tyreese, on the other hand, wanted to teach her tenderness and appreciation for all that she brought to his life. In return, she gave him love and care in such abundance that it nearly drowned him at times.
“I’m making the blue bird!” Mika protested, responding to her sister. “If I can already make the bluebird, Lizzie, then I should make it.”
“It goes in the middle and that’ll ruin the whole thing! You won’t know where to put it!” Lizzie protested, her voice growing louder than that of her sister’s.
“OK—OK…” Tyreese interjected, reaching for Judith and tugging her backward toward his chair and further away from the fire so that she didn’t end up getting too close. The grate that they’d set up around the fireplace was good for keeping her out of the flames, but they’d learned that it still got quite warm when there was a fresher piece of wood on the fire and the flames were particularly high. They wanted to avoid even minor burns, if possible. It wasn’t exactly as though they had an abundance of access to medical care. “If the puzzle is going to cause a fight, then we’ll put it away early, and I’ll just read for the evening.”
“You can’t read, yet,” Carol said, emerging from their kitchen. It was close to the living room, and she could somewhat follow along with what was taking place there, but she was still cut off from the family, to some degree, while she worked on preparing meals or cleaning. “I don’t want to miss the story.”
Tyreese smiled to himself. Their entertainment, these days, was simple. Any new games, puzzles, or books, were acquired during runs, and only if they could be found. They spent most of their days working to improve their home, their gardens and their little orchard, their smokehouses, and even the little animal pens that they’d built in the back part of their claimed land. They spent their evenings with quiet activities like working the same puzzles over and over, playing family games, and reading. They claimed that they took turns reading aloud, but mostly it was Tyreese that read. From time to time, they entertained each other with songs, too, but reading was much more common.
The quiet ways that Carol and Tyreese entertained themselves, when the bath time rush was done and the girls were finally tucked in to sleep, were probably the primary reason that Carol’s clothes were looking so snug this evening.
“I won’t read the story without you,” Tyreese said. “But I’m also not going to put up with fighting over the puzzle.”
Carol walked over to the table where Lizzie was working at setting out the edges of the puzzle on the board that allowed them to move the puzzle while it was still in progress. Half laid over the table, Mika was working on the bluebird that was irritating her sister. Carol leaned over both of them, selected a piece from the pile, and handed it to Lizzie.
“Corner,” she said.
“Thanks, Mama,” Lizzie said, barely acknowledging the exchange for the fact it might break her concentration.
Tyreese settled back into his chair, dragging Judith up with him. She came with the board book he’d read a thousand times. She wasn’t begging him to read it this time. Instead, it seemed she wanted to read it to him while he held her. He half listened to her screeching sounds and garbled words—which she counted as reading—while he watched the interaction surrounding the puzzle.
“You let your sister put the pieces together for the pictures she likes,” Carol said softly, squeezing Lizzie’s shoulder. “You put the outside together to hold the whole thing together. Then you can put her birds and flowers in the right places.”
“I’m good at the pictures,” Mika offered, rearranging what Tyreese assumed to be more pieces of the bluebird in the summertime puzzle. She may have even moved on to the large sunflower she usually enjoyed constructing.
“You are,” Carol assured her, patting her shoulder. “And Lizzie’s wonderful at getting the frame put together.”
Carol left the girls and winked at Tyreese before she disappeared into the kitchen, again, to work more on the dinner she was preparing.
“Smells good,” Tyreese offered.
It always smelled good. Carol could turn even the simplest ingredients into the most complex tasting meal. She teased him that she’d always been told that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach—or his dick, whichever he preferred. Tyreese always teased her back that she left him no complaints in any area and, for that reason, he would never be willing to give her up, no matter who might come along.
He’d scoured neighboring farmhouses until he’d found her a wood burning oven and stove. It was the kind of thing that probably belonged in a museum, and the house that had offered it up was one of those houses that was so strangely immaculate that Tyreese could only assume that the people who lived there never actually lived in their house. They probably ate take-out food while they sat on their plastic covered couches and tried to keep their home looking as much like a museum as possible. He’d only been a little apologetic as he’d stripped the place clean and loaded up their beautiful things in a truck to bring them to Carol so that she could use them to feature their proverbial nest.
Though Carol did her best to keep the house spotless, their home was definitely lived in. It was comfortable and everything that home should be. Tyreese was happy there. There was no other castle of which he’d rather be king, honestly.
Carol came out of the kitchen carrying a plate. She walked straight to the girls and offered them each a cookie, which Tyreese could now see were piled on the plate. She circled back, then, and offered Tyreese a cookie. He reached the hand out that wasn’t supporting Judith, and tugged Carol to him. She leaned down and met him with a kiss. He smiled at her when she pulled away.
“Sweeter than the cookies,” he offered. Her smile was payment enough for any and every compliment. Tyreese did his best to compliment her profusely and often.
When she straightened up, he pulled her to him and leaned, quickly nuzzling against her belly. The girls, if they looked up from their puzzle work, would see it as nothing more than a disgusting show of affection between their parents. Carol knew what it was, though, and she touched Tyreese’s face tenderly in response.
“Have a cookie,” she offered. “Take two, and give some to Jude. They’re walnut and some of that white chocolate we found.”
“I want two!” Mika said quickly.
“The rest are for after dinner,” Carol said.
“Please? We could share one?” Mika begged. “Lizzie and me.”
“You’ll spoil your dinner,” Carol said, shaking her head. “The stew’s cooking.”
“Besides,” Lizzie sniped, “you can’t eat all the cookies because you’ll get fat.”
“Lizzie,” Tyreese warned.
“Nah uh,” Mika protested.
“You will, too,” Lizzie said. “You already are gaining weight. You said your green pants didn’t fit anymore.”
“Mika’s green pants don’t fit anymore because she’s growing and she outgrew them,” Carol said. “Lizzie, be nice to your sister.”
“And I don’t know where you learned that a little extra weight is the worst thing in the world,” Tyreese said, “but I don’t want to hear about it. Not in this house.” He was fully aware that one of Carol’s triggers, thanks to her abusive ex-husband, was weight. She was always concerned about being overweight, what he would think, and how he would react. Tyreese knew that this absolutely wasn’t the time to have such a discussion trigger some kind of inappropriate attempt to avoid gaining any weight. “We’re thankful we have food to eat and everyone’s healthy.”
“Right,” Mika said, popping the rest of her cookie in her mouth, happily. She seemed to have forgotten her begging for another cookie thanks to the satisfaction of having won the latest argument with her sister. “Mama’s pants don’t fit anymore either. That’s why she put a rubberband around the button today to make them bigger.”
“That’s because Mama’s in the kitchen and she’s probably in there eating all the cookies,” Lizzie teased.
“I haven’t even had one of the cookies,” Carol said, putting to plate on the little table beside Tyreese’s chair.
“Then why are you getting so fat?” Lizzie asked.
Tyreese bristled.
“Lizzie!” He snapped loudly. She jumped and Judith, who was eating a crumbling cookie and happily pointing out the farmyard animals in her book, coughed in response. Tyreese patted Judith on the back to make sure she wasn’t choking, but he kept his sternest possible expression pointed toward Lizzie. Neither he nor Carol knew much about Lizzie and Mika’s life before they’d ended up with them, but what they did know was that Lizzie had some behavioral issues. She required a somewhat firm hand and a good deal of reminders about what was and wasn’t acceptable. “We are not calling anyone fat in this house anymore; do you understand me?”
Lizzie stared at him, unblinking.
“Yes, sir,” she said softly. “But it was Mika who said Mama’s pants don’t fit. Are you still growing, too, Mama? Like Mika?”
Tyreese furrowed his brow, not sure if Lizzie was being sincere in her inquiry or if she needed to be punished for being a smart mouthed child. He wasn’t sure if she could help her mouth, all the time, but he was certain that her real parents had done little to teach her to control it. He relaxed when he felt Carol’s hand on his shoulder. She didn’t respond to Lizzie, though, and he could practically feel the tension radiating through her body.
He didn’t like that, and he didn’t want that. When she grew rigid and tense like that, it reminded Tyreese too much of what she’d been through in the past. And he preferred, especially since she was growing their little one, to have her as relaxed as possible. She deserved to be able to relax in their home.
“As a matter of fact,” Tyreese said, “your Mama is growing. Not like Mika, but she’s growing. In fact—the growing she’s doing is very, very important.”
“Ty…” Carol said, tightening her fingers on his shoulder for a moment.
“We’re going to talk to them eventually,” Tyreese said. “I don’t see why tonight isn’t as good as any other time.”
“Talk to us about what?” Lizzie asked.
As their more keyed up child, she was already looking worried. She abandoned the puzzle entirely and turned around in her chair. Mouth and eyes wide, it was clear that she was preparing for the worst. Mika still held a piece of the puzzle and lounged, on her elbow, at the table. She was listening, but was clearly less concerned. Judith, for her part, wasn’t concerned in the least. She wiggled out of Tyreese’s lap and ran off after her blocks and animals she’d been playing with in the corner.
Tyreese reached an arm out and hooked it around Carol’s waist to offer support and, to some degree, to stop her from running away because of nerves. He reached his hand up and patted her stomach, for the first time in front of the girls, allowing his fingertips to brush over the sweet swell that had sparked at least part of this discussion. He let his fingertips drum a rhythm there, gently, to keep Carol grounded and calm—reminding her that this was him and, hopefully, not allowing her to descend down any rabbit hole left behind by the deceased Ed Peletier.
“Everything around here’s in a growing season,” Tyreese said. “Right? That’s why we’re planting like we are, and why we’re preparing for those new little goats and piglets we’ll have soon. It’s that time of the year.”
“I get to name the piglets,” Mika offered. “You already said I could.”
“Doesn’t matter what we name them,” Lizzie countered. “We’re going to eat them.”
“We’ll worry about the piglets later,” Tyreese interjected. “This isn’t about the piglets, OK? Not really. My point is that it’s a growing season. And because your mother didn’t want to be left out, it would seem that she’s joining in and doing just what nature intended. She’s growing a new little member for our family.”
“What?” Lizzie asked, leaning forward until she might topple out of her chair, her brows furrowed together.
Mika lit up, first, and sucked in air rather loudly. She tossed her puzzle piece against the others and unraveled herself from the position she’d taken in the chair.
“You mean a baby?” She asked, hovering halfway out of her chair.
Tyreese patted Carol’s back affectionately to reassure her and remind her that he was there for her. She was hiding her mouth behind her hand like she expected some kind of declaration, from her family, that she should be stoned to death for the crime of having become pregnant—clearly entirely by herself and only to spite them all.
“A baby,” Tyreese confirmed.
Mika was out of her chair and wrapped around Carol almost immediately.
“Oh my gosh!” She declared. “When?”
“We’ve still got—months sweetheart,” Carol said, finding her voice. She rubbed Mika’s back as she hugged her. “Maybe even—five or six.”
“Judith’s mama—her real mama? She died when Judith was born,” Lizzie pointed out.
Tyreese’s stomach tightened with the words. Part of him wanted to reprimand the girl for forever bringing up things that weren’t pleasant or nice to discuss. On the other hand, he could hear in her voice and see in her face that she was sincerely concerned. He reached a hand out in her direction and waved her toward him. She came and rested somewhat awkwardly, leaning against the chair where he was trapped. He caught her hand, holding it to ground her somewhat.
“We know that there are always risks involved in everything we do,” Tyreese offered. “But—we don’t want to talk about the bad things and focus on the bad things because that takes away from the good things. Carol’s done this before, and we’re going to be super positive that…she can do it again, right? And we’re going to do everything we can do to make sure that—everyone’s healthy and everything’s ready. You can help me with that, can’t you? Make sure everything’s ready?”
Having a purpose and a job—something that she could do, and something that Tyreese could use to keep her occupied—was always the best thing for their busy Lizzie. She smiled as sincerely as she was likely to smile until she was fully comfortable with everything, which Tyreese expected would take as long as it did when dealing with anything new, and she nodded before she pulled her hand free from his and went to hug Carol with her congratulations.
By the time both girls pulled away, Tyreese didn’t miss that Carol was wiping under her eyes with the pads of her fingers.
“Do I get to name it?” Mika asked, grinning at Carol as she backed away from her.
“We’ll certainly consider your suggestions,” Tyreese offered.
“Will it be a girl or a boy?” Mika asked.
“There’s no way to know that, stupid,” Lizzie offered.
“Lizzie,” Carol warned. “We don’t know, sweetheart. We won’t know until it gets here.”
“Maybe it’ll be both!” Mika said with some hopefulness.
“Maybe we’ll take our new additions one at a time,” Tyreese offered with a laugh. “OK—you two get back to your puzzle. Watch Judith a few minutes. I’m going to help your Mama in the kitchen.”
Tyreese took the plate of cookies back to the kitchen to wait until dessert. He followed Carol and watched as she stirred the stew. When she’d rid herself of the spoon, she wiped at her eyes again and Tyreese pulled her to him. He hugged her, and then rocked her as he gently danced her around the kitchen floor. She laughed quietly, against him, pleased with the gentle, swaying dance.
“You’re trembling,” Tyreese said. “I can feel it.”
“Nervous,” Carol breathed out. “Maybe not now. Relieved?”
“I knew it would do you some good to have it out in the open,” Tyreese said. “And nobody imploded. We’re all going to be excited to see the family grow.”
Carol laughed to herself and pulled away from him. She playfully swatted him and he reached for her again, even though she evaded him for a second.
“One at a time? You’ve got big plans for this family, I see,” she teased. There was no real bite to her voice, and Tyreese appreciated when she played and joked with him.
“I’m just open to whatever the future may bring,” he assured her. “That’s all. I just want you to know that—whatever happens? We’re in this together and I support you all the way.” Carol smiled at him. It was her soft, sweet smile. It still gave him butterflies. He reached his hand out and caught her. This time she allowed herself to be caught. He pulled her back to him and enjoyed the kiss that she gave him. He allowed it to last as long as she wanted.
“I love you,” she assured him.
“I love you,” he echoed.
“You’re so good to me,” she marveled.
“I would have no reason to be anything else,” he said. “You give me nothing but good things. A nice home. A good life. And—it’s only getting better.”