First fic,and this story is honestly the only reason I have an account. I'm new at this,so please review,even just to give me a few pointers on anything. I'm doing this on my kindle,so I'm bound to screw up here and there. Well,enough of me blabbing on and on,let's get to the story! It's going to be rather short,just as a introductory of Daryl and Carl's feelings at the moment. Enjoy.

(PS- disclaimer: I love TWD & Norman Reedus,obviously,but I don't own either,sadly)

Carl's POV:

Carl Grimes woke up to the sound of his mother crying out in pain over stomach cramps. He laid on his bed and listened as his father tried to calm her down. He bunked in the cell next to his parents,since the prison was overflowing with empty cells. Though the walls were thick,he awoke most nights like this. To his mother yelling at anything that dare make a sound,his father's exhausted voice trying to calm her,always in vain.

And Carl was tired of it. But what could he do? Ask them kindly to stop? Any way he thought of it sounded ridiculous. So he suffered in silence.

But little did he know,that in only a few hours,his nights will never be like this again.

Daryl' s POV:

Daryl Dixon watched as the sun peaked up slowly over the horizon,his crossbow laid out on his lap. He was currently on watch at one of the guard towers,Glenn at the other. He wasn't surprised to see Rick enter the prison lawn and make his way over to him. The man's shoulders were slumped in defeat,his head hung.

His dumb prego wife must've snapped at him again,Daryl thought sadly.

Poor guy didn't even deserve it,the baby being his looney now-dead best friend's. And what the hell were they even gonna do with a baby? Can't feed itself,needs constant protection,will whine and cry every damn minute. Well,if he thought about it,about half the group are like that.

"Your relived for the night,Daryl." Rick says as he enters the tower's post. He has his rifle strung to his back,but there were dark bags under his eyes,and his hair was a curly mess.

Daryl leaned back on the metal wall,staring out into the horizon. "Nah man,go get Chinaman. I'm fine."

"Daryl,go get some rest. You probably need it more than him." The former sheriff protested.

The hunter looked him straight in the eye. "What the hell did I just say? I'm fine."

Rick shook his sighed,shaking his head,but left. Moments later Daryl sees Glenn trudge to the prison.

A baby. A damn baby. Daryl shook his head. They were screwed.

He knew if they lost that child,everything would plummet downhill. It was dangerous to even get close with a person in the world current state,but to love someone? That's suicide. Daryl knew he was in trouble anyway with the bonds he unintentionally formed with the members of the group. But love them? No,not like how Rick and Lori loved Carl. Not like how Glenn loves Maggie,and vice versa.

Has Daryl grown fond of them? Yes,he supposed.

But love was a word Daryl Dixon never understood,nor did he ever want to.

Love was a weakness,he believed,and he couldn't be torn down that way.