The cool breeze blew against your cheek, and the fresh air fanned against your skin. Sending goosebumps climbing up your arms and legs. But it felt good to feel the wind blowing through your long hair that cascaded down your back. There was something calming about the feel of a breeze at night. As though each inhale of the fresh raw air could soothe you from the inside out.

Your eyes gazed upon the long grass of the green field that stretched out in front of you. And although much of it became hidden as it reached the tall silver gates surrounding the prison, you could still see the sparkle of natural beauty on the far away horizon.

"What'cha doing out here?"

You hadn't even heard his boots carrying him through the grass, and although his words startle you, you smile softly at his sudden presence.

That was the thing with Daryl Dixon, wherever you were and whatever the situation, when ever he was near, you smiled. For he made you feel calmer and safer, just by the presence of his quiet protective being.

Looking up, as Daryl's shadow falls upon you and engulfs you in a cooler shade, you shrug your shoulders softly.

"Just thinking," You softly breathe out, and soon you turn your head back to the extended field. "And I was craving some fresh air."

The prison was a blessing. A safety and a refuge that you all needed desperately. But it was more than four walls and a roof, it was a place you all could start again. That's how it felt. No matter the history stored within those grey cement walls and metal cells, its future was brighter.

But as much as you enjoyed the structure and safety of the building, there were days when you missed the fresh air on the open road. And that's when you needed time in the fields. To allow the nature and fresh air to soak back into your skin and breathe in the less stuffy and stale air that you breathed in the prison block.

"Is she still asleep?" You ask Daryl as you feel him take a seat beside you. His legs bringing him to sit in the grass and turning your head, you look to the broad but beautiful redneck.

Daryl nods his head as he chews on his thumbnail. "Mhm. Out like a light."

Your daughter. Seven years old and just like her father. Daryl claimed she was more you than himself, as she carried all your physical features except for bright blue eyes. But you swore she was more him than yourself. She may look like you, but she got every attitude, accent, and behavior from her father. She was his spitting image, and some days you wondered if that scared him.

"She really loves that book you brought back for her." You inform him, as your head leans softly against his shoulder.

Daryl hums softly, as he relaxes into your touch. "Figured she was old 'nough to start readin chapter books. Even if she can only read a page or two a night."

You smile faintly as you breathe in the scent from his denim jacket. The pine and the smoke that had woven itself into Daryl's clothes and the scent of his skin still coming through the thick denim.

"Do you remember those days years ago, when we'd take those heavy quilted blankets my mother gave me, and spread them out across the lawn in the backyard?"

Your voice is soft in the vast open space of the field, but it floats straight up to Daryl's ear and he listens to you intently. As he always did.

"And we'd bring out sandwiches or hot dogs and that overly sweet lemonade she always loved, and just have a picnic in the backyard?"

Daryl feels a warmth spread throughout him at the memory he had honestly long forgotten. But remembering those easier and happier times, makes him feel something deep in his chest. Something he had felt on those days years ago.

"No reason, no planning. Just a spontaneous moment between the three of us."

Daryl eventually nods his head, and you feel his movement as your head still rests against his shoulder.

"I remember."

Swallowing a breath, you sit up slowly. "So does she."

Daryl looks over at you as you say that, and meeting his gaze, you smile sadly.

"She was telling me how she missed them. The family picnics in the backyard at home. She said she wished we could still have them, that that's what she wants... for everything. For her birthday, for Christmas, just one of those family picnics at home."

And just like that, the warm and pleasant feeling that had grown inside of Daryl's chest at the memory, goes cold.

"I told her we'd make new memories here," You say softly. "That was all I could offer her. But luckily she turned her attention to her book and forgot what we were even talking about."

Daryl listens as you let out a deep and slightly shakey sigh. And he sees the emotion that tightens your face.

"I wish I could give it to her." You admit sadly. "I wish she didn't have to live this life, that we could go back to how things used to be. But I can't change any of it."

Daryl wraps an arm around your shoulder, and once again you are snuggled deep within his warm and safe side. "You're doing the best ye can with what you been given."

"Ain't none of us planned for life to go to shit. Ain't none of us planned for our kids to go through this every day, but we gettin by." Daryl tells you calmly. Feeling the deep rumble of his low words vibrating against you as he speaks.

"She still smiles. She still laughs. She still plays and dances and pretends like a kid her age should." Daryl says with that of a faint smile in his voice. "She may miss things she don't got right now, but she's not unhappy."

"You gotta remember that when she thinks bought those kind of memories. We all can miss stuff, but as long as our girl is happy and as healthy as she can be, she's doin jus fine. We're both doin jus fine."

Tears burn the edges of your eyes as you blink through them, and looking up towards the man who's shadow engulfs you in a cool calm shade, you smile softly. His face is shadowed by the night, but his features are not lost. They are instead highlighted by his words and his comfort he extends to you in this moment.

"I love you."

Your whisper tone is soft but Daryl looks down at you as soon as your three words hit his ears. His eyes gaze at you for a short moment before tightening his embrace, and bringing you even closer to him, his lips press gently against the soft skin of your temple. And as you sit there with your love, safe and loved, as your daughter sleeps comfortably inside, you realize maybe Daryl was right. Maybe the three of you were just fine and would always be fine as long as you were happy and healthy, and most importantly... together.

* * * *

The sun shines through the window across the way, and its warm rays soak through the sheet in the doorway. Panning against the hard floor in soft streaks, instantly brightening up the once dim cell.

Your eyes squint at the sudden light as you wake slowly. Feeling the mattress beneath your back and remembering Daryl carrying you to bed last night after your late night conversation.

Stretching your hand out to the right side of the bed, all your fingers brush against are cold and empty sheets. Sitting up, you look to the left where the real bed lays. You had given your daughter the bed that had come with the cell, and Daryl had brought in an extra mattress for the two of you to sleep on. But just like the right side of your bed, hers is just as empty. Except for the crumple of sheets and stuffed animal lamb that wasn't quite as white as it once was.

Pulling the sheets from around your warm body, you pull on a sweatshirt, shorts and boots. Pulling your hair up before exiting the quiet cell.

Most were up by this time, with chores to be done and watch shifts to be taken. Daryl hated waking you up, so he never did. But some days, you wished he would as you feared it would look lazy to sleep in to the others.

Walking into the kitchen area, you spot your blonde haired daughter sitting beside Carl who's sheriff hat hangs a little lopsided on top of his brunette head.

"Morning baby," You whisper as you bend down to kiss her head. Smelling the faint scent of the strawberry shampoo you used just the other night, still lingering on her blonde tendrils.

"Morning mama." She replies with her soft twang, and she doesn't look up from the picture she colors with old and broken crayons spread across the table.

"Have you seen your daddy this morning?"

"Mhm," Your daughter hums, and it was one of those times you swore you were talking to Daryl instead of your daughter.

His spitting image.

"Told me ta color him some'in pretty, while he went to set some'in up outside."

Kissing her head once more, you thank her softly. Taking a peak at the colorful picture she drew on the slightly dirt smudged paper in front of her. Smiling softly at the image, you head for the doors leading outside.

Instantly, warm sunlit hits your tanned skin and the warmth that soaks into your clothes is welcome.

Strolling out further, you shield your eyes with the palm of your hand, as your eyes scan for a certain redneck. And as you look across the wide field that surrounds you, it doesn't take you long for a small speck of a person in the near distance to catch your eye.

He bends slightly, but it only puts the angel wings of his vest on closer display. You told him to retire the leather in the summer heat, but secretly, you would be sad to see those stitched wings go away.

They were a part of him now, a part of his identity almost. As though the wings weren't just stitched to the back of his vest, but had stitched themselves to Daryl as well.

"Busy morning?" You call out, walking through the long and itchy grass. Still shielding your eyes from the blindingly bright sunshine, and trying to ignore the bothersome feel of the grass against your bare legs. The shorts you pulled on not being your brightest choice.

Daryl spins around at the startling presence of your voice, and you smirk softly. It was nice knowing you could still catch him off guard.

As his eyes land upon you, and calm at the realization that it was only you, he let's out a breath and shrugs his shoulder.

"She tell you I was out here?" Daryl lifts an eyebrow as his blue eyes squint from the brightness.

"Mhm," You nod your head, loosely and casually wrapping your arms across your chest. "She's still busy coloring with Carl."

"Her picture looks nice."

Daryl let's out a small grunt, and the low noise morphs into a faint smile upon his lips. "Told her ta bring it out here when she finished."

Looking past Daryl for a moment, your eyes land upon the grass. But more importantly, what lays upon the grass.

"What are you doing out here anyway?"

A blanket, one of an army green shade and slightly scratchy cotton, lays spread out across the green summer grass. And beside the fabric sits bottles of water and an assortment of long faded packages of food.

Daryl looks to you hesitantly for a short moment, chewing intensely on his lower lip. But as your eyes soon raise from their gaze on the blanket and food, he shrugs sheepishly.

"You told her we'd make new memories here," Daryl confess softly, his eyes having since dropped to stare down at his boots. "Why not start now?"

Opening your mouth breathlessly, no words fall out. For nothing could come close to expressing everything that was bursting and fluttering deep inside of your heart in that very moment.

Daryl's gaze finally lifts as he fears your silence, but as his blue eyes look to you, he realizes the look on your face isn't one of disapproval or anything bad. But instead, the complete opposite.

Just as Daryl begins to open his mouth to say something else, his eyes shift to look at something behind you. Causing you to turn and look as well. Only to spot your little girl running with a wide grin through the tall grassy field. And in her hand raised high, her picture flutters back and forth.

"I finished daddy, ya wanna see it?" She announces joyfully with her sweet southern accent lacing her words in soft honey.

Daryl chuckles softly as she runs straight up to him, "Of course."

You watch your daughter hand her picture off to her father, who bends down to be at eye level with her. And taking the paper slowly in his much larger and rougher hands, Daryl looks at the crayon made drawing with soft eyes.

"When did you become an artist? Huh?" Daryl smiles and looking up at his little girl, she bounds forward into his open arms.

Daryl lifts her up, balancing her on his hip as his arms wrap around her back securely. And still wearing her wide grin that shows off her first missing tooth, her eyes land upon the small scene set up in the grass.

"What's the blanket for?" She asks innocently.

Daryl brushes a curl from out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear before replying.

"Your ma told me you miss them family picnics we used to have when you was little, back at home." Daryl explains gently. "And I thought, why couldn't we have one here?"

You had thought your daughter's smile was big before, but after hearing that news, you feared her lips might just split in two.

Squealing with excitement, Daryl sets her down and watches her run and bounce onto the green blanket. Not even caring how old or musty or unsoft the fabric was. Nothing mattered but this moment... just the three of you.

Daryl joins your daughter as you bend down to pick up her picture she dropped, before the wind decides to blow it away. And smiling down, as your eyes trace over the crayon drawn picture, you can't help but feel like this was the start of something new. Just the beginning.

And sitting beside your young daughter and handsome love, you all join in a moment in time. A moment filled with smiles, happiness and laughter. One that didn't feel the weight of the world or fear of each day. It was one that felt light and free and everything life used to be. And could be again one day. For in this moment, you could see it.

And your daughter certainly saw it. Her hands created a picture of the picnics you could have here in the prison. Her crayons displaying the grass you sit in now, and the smiles you wear at this very moment. You and Daryl saw a future bigger than this, and your daughter did too.

A/N: 😍The idea for this one came to me suddenly, so I decided to run with it. And I can happily say, I'm quite proud of how this one turned out.❤
Also, Happy Easter Everyone!💜