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Daryl was sure he hadn't ever felt more foolish than he felt right now. Crouched down in a tangle of bushes with Michonne and Aaron, spying on his daughter through the school window. It felt like someone was going to catch him and get him in trouble even though there was no rules against what they were doing. It was strange but not a crime. Turning his skeptical gaze from Layla to Michonne and Aaron, Daryl shook his head
"she looks fine," he told them gruffly. When he'd returned from his search the two had told him Layla needed his help and that it was an urgent matter. From what he could see the worst thing going on for her was boredom; looking back to her he watched as she spun a pencil between her fingers and glared down at her text book.
"School isn't the problem," Aaron said, cautiously looking to Michonne for confirmation. When he got a single nod in return he continued "other residents, parents mostly, have been complaining that she's- scaring people. Making them uncomfortable." There was no holding back the proud and amused smile that crept onto Daryl's face. This was news to him as the last time he'd checked his kid couldn't scare a nervous cat, let alone a whole town of people.
"I mean she is my kid there's no doubt-" Michonne let out a sharp breath and flared her nostrils.
She'd known this wasn't going to be an easy conversation, she'd even been expecting some push back from Daryl. What she hadn't foreseen from his was flat out denial that Layla's situation was a problem.
"She goes off on her own constantly- doesn't ever tell us where she's going or when she'll be back- she's been lashing out at people, we think she's been squatting in one of the old houses by-"
"I thought she was staying with you." Worry and confusion washed away any amusement Daryl had; his brows fell into a hard line and the smile slipped into a deep grimace. There was a rolling sensation in his stomach that he tried to ignore as he looked to Michonne and Aaron for answers; shaking her head Michonne kept her voice as even as possible
"she was but it didn't last long. She started getting so angry all the time and would just storm off, for days sometimes. Nothing we say matters to her anymore. I swear it's like a switch flipped in that kid." Her throat began to tighten with emotion so Michonne let her words trail off
"people want things to feel more like home around here Daryl," Aaron said, his voice sharper than he meant it to be "and that can't happen with a feral kid running around." The look Daryl shot him made Aaron grateful that 'if looks could kill' was just an expression.
"Did you just call my kid fucking feral?" Daryl bit out defensively, Aaron took a shaky breath but didn't flinch "Layla's not some stray dog she's just an independent kid. She's clothed, she's fed, she's going to school. She's fine." Daryl stood and Aaron rose with him refusing to break eye contact first,
"exactly," he said pointing to the school window "she's just a kid. And twelve year old kids shouldn't be living by themselves in abandoned houses. Layla doesn't listen to us because we aren't you. It's you she wants here." Fists clenched Daryl's arm began to shake and Aaron braced himself for the impact, but it never came. Instead Daryl looked at Layla with his face pinched and eyes pain filled.
For a second Aaron could see the resemblance between the two. Layla didn't look much like her father but their eyes held the same expressions; guarded and calculating until the mask slips revealing very raw emotions. Still worried Daryl might decide to swing at him Aaron very lightly put a hand on his shoulder
"talk to her after school."
If it wasn't in an abandoned house on the verge of being over grown Daryl felt Layla's room would have been the bedroom of a typical teenage girl, only a few minor details eluded to the fact that it was the end of the world. Her posters he'd found were not all posters but other random papers she'd found as well. Every inch of the walls she could cover had been papered over with book pages, maps, brochures, if it was intact and legible it was hanging up. And he was sure the weaponry stashed around would not have been present had they not been in apocalypse. His stomach clenched as he wondered if they'd be there if she'd been living with him instead of being on her own. Layla's bed caught his gaze and he stared grimly at the little hollow where she slept, nested in a tangle of blankets and pillows. The air started to feel heavy and stale as he spiraled in his thoughts, guilt seemed to close his throat.
Just as he wondered if he would be able to pry open a window the bedroom door swung open to reveal Layla; hatchet in hand and standing like she was ready for an attack, her eyes went round when she saw her father standing in her room. She fixed her face into an unbothered mask and dropped her arms to her side, letting the hatchet swing loosely
"oh, it's just you." Daryl would be lying if he said her cool tone didn't hurt. He'd been gone for some time and she didn't even pretend to be happy to see him back. A part of him had been hoping that Aaron and Michonne were exaggerating and he'd come back to little Layla, always happy to welcome him back, asking him about everything he'd seen. But this was not little Layla. Not only was she taller but up close her face was so different; it had never been as round as it should have been but now every feature she had was sharp. Even the way she held her self was different. It wasn't inward like when she was little but like she was ready to attack, she may have been walking over the couch but she still walked like she was stalking prey. No this was not the daughter he'd left but a ghost of her.
"Who were you expecting?" He asked her quietly, fighting to keep his face devoid of emotion. She shrugged and dropped her books onto a small table before flopping onto the couch, not even bothering to look at him
"no one. What are you doing here?"
"I- I'm back for a check in and Michonne talked with me. About you," at this Layla's eyes flashed toward him in annoyance. "Why aren't you staying at home, or with Michonne?" Layla gave him a smile that eerily reminded him of Merle's smile. Empty, angry, not a smile of joy but one that dared you to continue, play the game and see what happens. She gestured to the room around them
"I am home. This is my house, and I help aunt Michonne when she asks." Daryl frowned at her
"that's not the point Layla. This is a rotting house, it's some derelict building, home is our house." He could see her swallow hard before picking up the nearest book and opening it, needing something else to look at
"you don't live there," she spat out "why should I."
It was like a punch to the gut. It was true but hearing it out loud hurt like hell. He looked down at his feet, sure that the shame would cut off his air completely if he looked at his daughter
"I guess that's fair," he muttered.
Looking up at him through a curtain of hair Layla felt like she was being ripped apart by her emotions. The little girl she'd been was so shattered by her fathers absence but it didn't stop her from wanting to run up and give him a hug, beg him not to go again. That part of her also wanted to apologize for hurting her father. Tell him that she hadn't meant it. Meanwhile her anger was foaming at the mouth, screaming at her to keep going until he was as hurt as she'd been. Make him pay for it all. Beg him to stay. Rip him to shreds. Don't let him go. The back and forth in her mind was sending her stomach into painful, writhing knots.
"I'm fine here. It's not that bad and I have lots of space to myself." She said, still keeping her voice short so he didn't think she was ready to forgive him. He looked up at her not daring to be hopeful
"I get that but- I can't have you running around on your own. You need-" Daryl nearly choked on his words and he wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry "you need a parent, and real home not some hideout." Her face was like stone but Layla's fingers itched as she fought the desire to throw her book at his head. Despite her stiff posture Daryl sat down next to Layla "I'll make you a deal. If you promise to move back home I will be home more, every other week." Peeking over Daryl saw Layla looked stricken, staring intently into the space in front of her
"really?" His throat felt swollen again but Daryl nodded and let out a meek 'yeah.' She wouldn't let herself smile but Layla's heart did a happy little flutter at the thought of getting her dad back. Finally getting him to stay.