AN: I really like this chapter. I truly hope you all do, too! I'm unsure if I will get a chapter out for tomorrow as it is my youngest's 4th birthday and we're having a gathering. I will try, though! Keep reviewing. Everything you are telling me is awesome! I've been really moved.

Part Four

She ached. Her body pulsed with pain, her conscious mind latching hold of the knowledge as proof that she wasn't dead. Pain was good, knowing she felt it was even better. Carol tried to move and a whimper rose to her throat, expelling it as quietly as she dared as she tried to settle long enough to allow the rush of memories to beat themselves forth. There was a throbbing burn between her legs and her fingers tingled from the ghost of a memory of soft skin—so soft it could only be a baby's and suddenly it all came hurtling back. Just as she realised her son was gone, she felt the rough touch of an unknown hand and her body lurched itself upright, a scream precariously balanced with the fear of attracting walkers if she released it. She'd learned long ago how to go about her every minute in silence, keeping noise so much to a minimum that she'd sometimes wondered if she still existed. She still knew enough to know that it was just her, that people were gone and no one touched her anymore. Her hand came out and slapped viciously at whoever dared to lay their hand on her, and her voice burst hoarsely, achingly from her throat.

"Don't you dare touch me."

She blinked rapidly, taking in the stunned, frightened expression of the brunette who'd been attending to her, and then she dismissed her in favour of looking for her knife. It was gone, she was somewhere else, and her baby was gone. Her weapons had been taken, and so had her own flesh and blood. Again.

"Where is my son?" she bit out, cringing at the manic tone and the breaking pitch that pealed past dry lips.

"He's fine, I promise." The woman stepped away from the bed, raising her hands as if she was afraid that if Carol had a gun she'd be shot right between the eyes. She was right. Carol wouldn't even hesitate to destroy anyone in this place that might have taken her baby. She didn't push herself to survive and bring that child into the world to have him taken from her now.

"Bring him to me now," she ordered fiercely, sitting up and shuffling forward weakly on the bed as if she was preparing to up and run if they didn't do what she'd requested.

"Of course, I'll go get him now. The others were just worried about him getting hungry."

"I can feed him." She darted a look into every corner of the room, not knowing whether to feel threatened that she was in a bed with a bag of fluids strapped to her arm, or safe. She switched back to the unknown woman, her arms aching to hold her boy, her breasts already attune to his presence and emotion threatened to clog her throat entirely, shredding her last will toward control. "He's my son."

The stranger nodded, about to duck out of the room when a shadow was cast over her by the presence of someone entering. Carol looked up, frantically seeking her baby and settled on the man that held her child so carefully in his arms. She'd seen him do it before, with baby Judith, and a tidal wave of emotion almost pitched her from the edge of the bed to the floor.

She swiftly stuffed every remnant need she had to run to him, or beg him to hold her, into a box she refused to ever open again. It wasn't the time to feel anything over seeing Daryl again. It may never be the time to feel anything at all again, she decided, except desperate to see the child her body had nurtured and protected for nine months. She held her arms out, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop them from shaking.

"Give him to me." It wasn't a request and she ignored Daryl's arched eyebrow at her tone; none of it mattered as long as he brought the child to her. He did, making no effort to keep her apart from her offspring and Carol sagged in relief as the tiny thing was finally placed in her arms, tears she had no control over breaking banks like flood waters. She sniffled and choked on sobs as she stared at him, taking in the light brown fuzz on his head, the already clear blue of his eyes, his perfect fingers, milky white skin. It was only then that she allowed herself to believe and hope, finding nothing but perfection about his little face. She lay him on the bed and unwrapped him, counting his toes, running her finger over his belly, marvelling at how his arms were outstretched and his legs trying to run races without his feet even touching the ground. There was no sign, nothing she could see but a healthy baby boy, and he was all hers. She made him and there was nothing anyone was going to do to take him away from her.

A laugh of pure delight erupted from her, and her eyes widened with amazement, not knowing where it had come from. Happiness had been buried so far down inside her for so long she'd forgotten what it meant to feel joy, but she felt it now, and it was pure and unadulterated. Wrapping him up again with the proficiency of someone who knew what they were doing, Carol swept him back up in her arms and brought him with her as she got comfortable on the bed, her back against the headboard, and without any concern for modesty or who might be watching, she undid the buttons of her shirt and watched in fascination as her baby rooted around for her breast and latched onto her nipple like a boy who'd been made for it. Carol laughed again, absolutely delighted, and then dissolved into harsh, gasping sobs.

His little mouth drew hard on her breast, his sucking reflex drawing a tweak of almost erotic pain that she felt tugging in her belly. Carol closed her eyes, wanting to ignore everything else around, ignore the implications of seeing Daryl holding her son, ignoring the pulsing curiosity of why he was here, in some house instead of back at the prison with the others. She shook the thoughts away, not wanting to know, wanting only to have these first few moments with her boy before she had to prepare to leave, to find her way again out on her own.

"He looks damn near perfect." Daryl's voice cut into her determined attempt at ignorance and she flinched.

"No," she replied softly, compelled into a conversation she didn't really want to have. "He's not near perfect, he just is."

The side of the bed near her knee dipped down and Carol tensed, her skin already buzzing at the prospect of being so close to Daryl again. She couldn't let it, couldn't let her thoughts take over and be consumed by him again. Leaving him behind when Rick had cast her out of the group had hurt far more deeply than she'd ever thought possible. If he tried to connect with her again, she'd find it almost impossible to break free, and she refused to be broken and weak. It took a tremendous bout of courage to tear her gaze away from her baby and meet Daryl half way, except when she did he wasn't waiting for her to look at him, he was staring at the baby's mouth as it latched around her nipple and massaged her for a mouthful of nutrients. His stare was intent and it made her face burn with embarrassment, as well as a craving so urgent she felt like she was dying. Unable to tear herself away from observing him, she pulled the baby away from her breast, gently held his little chin and rubbed his back until he passed a little gas, then positioned him against her other breast, Daryl all the while staring with a shocked look of wonder splayed right across his face. She contemplated the naked desire she saw there, and despite waiting so long for that kind of indication he felt that way about her, she chose now to shut it down. She had no more room in her life for that kind of hurt.

"There's no point to such longing looks, Daryl. This milk bar is only open to one." She shrivelled a little inside at the instantaneous snapshot of pain he immediately tried to hide as he jumped up from the bed, shook his head and paced a few steps away toward the door. Hardening her heart, Carol did up her buttons and then tucked her little boy under her chin and hummed softly as he muzzled up into her neck and promptly fell into newborn slumber.

A scuffle outside the door caught her attention and before Daryl could move to intercept her, Maggie appeared, her eyes flashing with a fury Carol didn't understand.

"You should go," he said to Maggie, his voice stronger than before, harder, and Carol realised then the depth of feeling behind all his words so far to her. Maggie shrugged past him, moving further into the room and Carol suddenly felt threatened, like her own safety might be in question. Daryl shouted for Glenn through the doorway and outside there was the shuffle of many more feet than Carol had expected and then footsteps almost running toward the room before Glenn burst through the doorway. He threw Carol a sheepish grin, before nodding at her new addition and giving her a thumbs up.

"Don't you leave that baby in here alone with her," Maggie warned darkly, wide eyes glistening wildly. "She's likely to kill it."

The jibe cut through Carol like a jagged knife, leaving pieces of herself exposed that she'd thought she'd built an armour strong as steel around. So, Rick had turned them against her; she shouldn't have been so surprised, or so hurt.

"Get her the fuck out of here," Daryl growled at Glenn and then Maggie was being dragged from the room, far too late because the damage had already been done. Carol watched Daryl as he rubbed a shaking hand across his face, her eyes stinging for her own agony but her heart cracking a little for the weight that he was obviously being crushed under. An unexpected chuckle spilled from his lips, then within a blink he'd perched beside her on the bed again, his expression soft and beseeching as he tried to get her to understand.

"Don't listen to Maggie. She's not coping with shit too well."

She didn't want to know, didn't want to care about the circumstances behind an outburst like the one that had just been aimed at her, designed to wound in the most callous way possible, but Daryl seemed intent to share whether she liked it or not.

"The day Rick told me what he done to you, the Governor attacked." They weren't prepared, she could see it in his eyes, could tell their loss had been great.

"Is that where that girl came from?" She hated herself for asking, wished desperately she could take the words back and continue not caring, keeping her heart aloft from anything that had struck the group she'd spent the most gruelling latter years of her life with, carving out a meaning with people she'd thought loved and cared for her as much as she'd loved and cared for them.

"Lilly?" He squinted at her, unsure and nervous about why she'd ask after someone she didn't even know above any of the others, but Carol didn't want to know who was lost, didn't want to have to grieve for people she'd cared about. She had other concerns now, other family, other priorities and she couldn't allow herself to get sucked in by Maggie's animosity, didn't want to expend energy on people that had been gone from her life for close to a year. "She and her sister were with the Governor. She…lost her little girl. Walker got her while she was waitin' somewhere else during the attack. She put the final bullet in the prick's head."

"Good." She could be relieved about that, happy that at least that chapter was finally dead. It had been a concern of hers that she'd run into Phillip Blake while she was out there on her own, trying to stay alive the best way she knew how, and then when she'd realised she was pregnant, the thought of running into any other survivors at all had brought with it a debilitating terror for the safety of her baby. She'd given up trying to find people, a new home and community, and just did her best to prepare for the birth and hope she could survive it and take care of him. She'd been such a fool. So stupid, thinking she could go through labour and childbirth all on her own. The pain had been excruciating, the effort to expel the tiny body from her womb while checking for the cord around his neck had taken the kind of heroic effort she'd fallen short of, and obviously she'd managed not much more before she'd fallen into unconsciousness. She could have died, fed from her child without even realising it. She could have stayed out of it for too long, and his hungry wails might have brought a herd down on them so fast she'd have had no chance of escaping it. Guilty tears sprung up and engulfed her, leaving her cheeks wet and inflamed.

"How long was I out?" She sounded lost, defeated and Daryl glanced sharply at her, his blue eyes stormy. She'd missed him so much but Carol looked away, scared that he'd see the longing she couldn't hide.

"Not long. Couple hours maybe."

"The prison's gone?" She couldn't help herself, apparently.

Daryl reached out a hesitant hand and placed it on the baby's head, his touch so sweet and gentle she wanted to cry.

"Yeah." Husky, sad, her heart twisted painfully for him and for the others. "Governor killed Hershel."

She gasped, not expecting news of such a meaningless loss and the sudden hit of it chilled the blood in her veins. "Oh no. Poor Maggie and Beth." The rigid stillness of his body gave her more heart-breaking news than she could deal with and this time she did release a sob, dropping her face against her son as her body shook and the defeat took her over. There were tears in Daryl's voice as he told her about Beth, about losing her when they were out on their own. How she'd gone dark and vengeful, burning down churches and turning her back when she should have been more careful. He said it was quick, but Carol cried anyway, cried like she hadn't done in so long. Daryl dragged her into his chest and she soaked his neck, curled an arm around his ribs and fisted a handful of his shirt at the back and wondered if, now she'd broken this boundary, could she ever let him go. He held her tight, kissed her temple, made sure the baby wasn't crushed between them, and while her old world melded with grief to her new one, the sun fell out of the sky and darkness crept in around them. He held her, even when Lilly came in bringing a lantern, leaving it on the bedside while she fiddled with the IV bag, removing it and the cannula completely without disturbing the emotional bond Daryl had with her. Carol was too tired to resist, too sad to question how easy it had been for him to get this close and sustain it. Too needy to let him go. They stayed wrapped up in each other until the baby once again stirred and it was time to introduce him once again to her breasts. Daryl stayed and watched again, only this time not only was he fixed and fascinated with the sight, that little grin out of the corner of his mouth surface as well. She might have wanted to shut him out, but as the babe sucked and pinched her nipple to the back of his throat, coaxing out the sweet liquid that would give him life and strength, Carol thought she might be pretty well sunk.

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AN2:

Guest 1: I like to think that, given time and the lack of death, that Daryl and Sophia might have grown close and he'd protect her just as ferociously. Daryl isn't going to risk losing these two, never again. To tell you the truth, I think the friendship that was between Glenn and Daryl, and then Michonne and Daryl, was a lot more equal that anything he had with Rick. I've never written much about Glenn so I'm really glad that his stance has made people happy. As for Tyreese, I just couldn't write him mad and vengeful. It didn't seem right. I think he would let a lot go once he knew about the baby, but I think once they got back and he saw how many died, that he'd have realised pretty quickly that Karen really never stood a chance, and then when he found out it was Carol, he'd have believed she did it to try and help, rather than in cold blood. As for your begging…I will have to ignore it for now ;)

Guest: I don't know if you were from the list of Guests from the last chapter but…great list of names! I am definitely after something Southern and I think I'm down to choosing between two. Just as an aside, I have 6 kids and sadly could only feed one of them—the first. It broke my heart, but what can you do? Glad to have you on board and reading. Hope you liked this chapter!

Dia: I would LOVE to know your theory if you want to PM me? I am just so chuffed that people have them! This fic seems to have really caught everyone's imagination and it's just the most exciting thing to write toward that. I am having a blast!

NG: Thanks!

GG: Rick has had a lot of time to feel the impact of his decision and I think it wouldn't be hard for him to have regret over it, especially now there is a real division between him and Daryl. Sasha loves her brother and she just can't understand how he can forgive so easily. I'm sure she'll get there. Poor Maggie has been through an emotional ringer and the last coherent thing that happened for her at the prison before everything went to hell was that Carol was a murderer. Being that her father was murdered right in front of her eyes, I imagine that situation gained a whole new level of horror for her.

For Michonne, I can't ever get it out of my head how she tells Andrea that the two walkers she dragged around with her weren't ever men to begin with. In the comics she is brutally raped and abused by the Governor. In my mind, I think the show implies that it was those two walkers that did that to her. I don't know if they killed her child/children or just abused her after the fact once the apocalypse hit, but that's what I believe about why she dragged those two around with her.

I wish I could throw you a bone, LOL, but if it helps, I've narrowed it down to two names. I thought I'd decided but then I realised one of them features in someone else's fic and I feel funny about it now, so will have to wait and see!

Guest 3: I am absolutely LOVING everyone's thoughts on who the dad might be. As you'll see, to Daryl it isn't important, but to others the impact of who it might be really is! It being Rick would be rather huge emotionally on quite a few of them ;)

Don't forget to review!