Before we get started, let me just say I know I'm evil. :) Enjoy, and please review!
Disclaimer: Not mine!
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Daryl slept through the night, much to the relief of everyone in the prison. Carol joined him in the cell early in the evening, electing to sleep in the top bunk so she could sleep close to him and monitor his condition. Hershel said it was a good idea and made her promise to get him if anything changed in Daryl's condition.
Carol had just dozed off when she felt Daryl stir in the bunk beneath her. Without thinking, she climbed down from her bunk and slid into his. He was still asleep, but his brow was furrowed and he tossed restlessly. Carol scooted into his side and draped her arm over his chest. After just a few moments, he settled down again, his chest rising and falling steadily under her arm. She thought about returning to the top bunk, but he finally looked comfortable and she really didn't want to leave him, so she rested her head in the crook of his neck and closed her eyes.
"Good night, Daryl."
Swears escaped his mouth as he ran through the forest. The groans of the dead echoed sharply in his ears as they drew closer and closer on him. He pushed himself harder and harder, never stopping, never looking back.
Lying in her bunk, Beth stared up at the bottom of the top bunk. Her hands rested lightly over her flat stomach.
She was pregnant.
The realization was still sinking in for her. Her life was changing once again, just when everything was finally possibly starting to settle down. She was barely eighteen and she was going to have a baby.
Her hand slid under her shirt and settled against her warm skin, where her baby was growing.
She could do this.
Naturally she wanted Merle there with her. They had barely known each other, but being in his arms and hearing him promise to take care of her…she had truly believed him. Now he was gone, just like that.
A tear ran down from her eye. She would be raising this baby on her own because Merle had gone and gotten himself killed. Would he have even wanted this baby? Would he have held her tighter or pushed her away if he knew she was carrying his child?
Rolling onto her side, Beth closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but when she finally did, her dreams were haunted by memories of him.
Rick was coming off watch when he noticed movement by the prison wall. On instinct, his hand moved to his gun.
"Don't shoot," a soft, feminine voice called.
His hand paused on his gun. The voice didn't belong to Maggie, Carol or Beth.
The young woman stepped out of the shadows, and Rick vaguely recognized her as Molly, the girl who had saved Daryl's life. "Hi. You're Rick, right?"
"Yeah." Finally he put his gun away and took Molly's hand when she offered it to him. "Rick Grimes."
"I'm Molly."
They shook hands for a moment before pulling away again.
"I really appreciate you helping Daryl out, Molly."
Even in the moonlight, he could see the light blush covering her cheeks.
"I couldn't just let him die."
"You could have. But you didn't. We don't see a lot of that nowadays."
Molly shrugged and looked past Rick, toward the fence of the prison.
"You okay?"
Her shoulders slumped slightly. "I have family out there, somewhere."
Her admission struck a deep chord with Rick. When he had first awoken from his coma, his first instinct had been to find Lori and Carl. He had only been separated from them for a short while, and in the end, he'd found them both. He understood Molly's pain all too well. "You want to talk about it?"
Another shrug. "Five brothers and a sister. All younger than me." Her eyes took on a faraway look. "Not even sure if they're still alive."
"How old are you, Molly?"
Molly's chin jutted out defiantly. "Twenty-four."
"How long have you been out on your own?"
"Not sure. A year, maybe."
She had been out there for a year, and she was still alive? He was impressed.
"Doesn't matter," she continued. "I'm going back out there."
"Why? You've earned a place here, at least for a while. We could use another set of hands." She would be another mouth to feed, but unlike the Woodbury group, she could help with chores and keep watch.
"I don't think so."
He detected a note of longing in her voice. "At least stay for a couple of days," he proffered. "If you don't like it, we'll give you some supplies and you can be on your way."
She seemed to consider his offer.
"This way, you can see how Daryl turns out."
"I'd like that," she admitted quietly. "He seemed like a good guy."
"He is. He's the best."
"I'll stay," she finally agreed. "Just for a couple of days."
The corner of Rick's mouth twitched.
"Just for a couple of days."
The following afternoon, Carol reluctantly allowed Beth to sit with Daryl while she went to get something to eat. The food wasn't appetizing, but she enjoyed seeing Carl hold Judith, who had seemed to grow so much in just a few days. Carol loved babies, and she would have loved to give Sophia a sibling, but it just hadn't been in the cards. Maybe it was for the best. Ed would have resented another child, and how could she have kept a second child safe in the middle of this hell?
A mild depression settled over Carol as she finished her food and quietly excused herself from dinner. She wandered outside and down the hill, to the place where they had buried T-Dog and Lori. Daryl had removed the rocks and cross from the third grave, her grave, but she could still see it in her mind's eye. He had saved her that day, and every day since.
Her eyes drifted to the fence, and what she saw there took her breath away. She inched closer, almost afraid it was a hallucination or a trick of the eye.
It wasn't.
There, tangled in the cool metal links, grew a Cherokee rose.
Her fingers trembled as she reached out and lightly touched the soft, white petals. Her mind went back to the day in the camper, when Daryl had shyly presented her with a single rose in a beer bottle and told her the story of the Cherokee rose.
I believe this one bloomed for yer little girl.
Hot tears dripped down her cheeks before she realized she was actually crying. Daryl was a rough, hard man on the outside, but underneath the dirt and angry words, he was just like her. Someone who was broken and looking for someone to love them unconditionally.
Her hand dropped away from the rose and she spun around on her heel, her stride determined as she hurried back to the prison.
She had to see him, and nothing was going to stand in her way.
Beth was sitting in a chair beside Daryl's bunk, an open bible in her lap. But she was barely reading it. Every few seconds, her eyes would go back to the injured man beside her. He hadn't made a sound since she convinced Carol to go eat something, and she was worried.
"You're going to be an uncle, Daryl," she suddenly whispered to his unconscious form. "You have to be okay. This baby needs you to be there for her."
He didn't respond, but she had not expected him to.
With a sigh, Beth returned her attention to the bible. But just as she settled into her reading, a low groan caught her attention. She looked to Daryl in time to see his body begin to convulse, and she panicked.
"Daddy!"
To Be Continued...
