You guys are amazing! I don't believe I have EVER had a chapter cause my inbox to blow up like the last two have! I would have updated sooner but my son broke both bones in his forearm last night during a baseball tournament. He may have surgery tomorrow so I may not post again until Tuesday! But I think this chapter will be what y'all want! I actually had to walk away for a few minutes while writing because I got so emotional. Let me know please how it works for you!

Norm was almost halfway to the Lollipop, the Georgia backroads winding in the dark. He turned the curve right before he would have had to turn onto the highway and then he saw it, Daryl's pickup, driven headfirst into a huge oak. He braked his bike so fast that he almost laid it down, tires skidding on the asphalt. He didn't bother putting down the kickstand in his haste, laying the Harley on the shoulder. Then he slung off his helmet and threw it to the side, his boots thudding under him as he ran. A litany of obscenities and half prayers ran through his mind.

FucknonotthisJesuspleasenodontlethimbedeadwewilllo seallthreeofthemNO!

It couldn't have been more than two or three minutes since the wreck, steam still rose from the grille and the engine made odd clicking noises. The front windshield was obliterated along with the whole front end of the vehicle. Norm jerked open the driver side door, steeling himself for what he would find.

It was empty except for Daryl's phone in the floorboard, now smashed and some blood (too MUCH blood) on the dash. Norm stood stock still, stunned for a moment. Then he heard a noise to his left, behind and slightly to the side of the tree. He whirled around and saw it in the moonlight, red black and white stitching, so deeply familiar because it was the same as what he had worn on his own back for two decades. Daryl lay in the underbrush, crumpled body with his back to him. Norm was at his side in seconds, falling to his knees and ripping apart underbrush that was between them, what bit that Daryl didn't smash through when he was thrown from the truck. Daryl let out a low groan when Norm rolled him onto his back and the DEMONS Sergeant nearly cried right then and there. If the boy could moan then that meant he was breathing. He looked down at Daryl's body then though, and his stomach rolled.

He had a gash on the left side of his head, blood slowly soaking into his hair, making it look inky black in the dim light. There were bits of glass from the windshield all over him and what looked like a set of black eyes. The worst was his left arm. It was bent back at a sickeningly WRONG angle at the shoulder.

"Christ..." Norm murmured in shock.

Daryl's eyes fluttered half open at the sound of his voice. "Sarge?" he breathed out.

"Yeah kid?" Norm answered, now fumbling his phone from his phone from his vest, thankful it hadn't broken when he threw it across the bathroom earlier that day.

"Baby Girl...she needs...me..." He tried to sit up but only moved inches before it jostled his shoulder. He let out a pained cry, slumping back against the red clay under him. Norm shook his head, putting a hand on the other man's chest.

"Stay still, boy. Trust me, you're about to go to the same place she's at."

"She...is she..."

"She was holding her own the last time I saw her. Wanted your sorry ass. Now just hold on, I gotta get some help coming."

Then Norm made his second panicked phone call of the day, this time to 911.

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Barry and Merle stood at the bay an hour later when The ambulance pulled up with full lights and sirens. Norm was right behind, pulling the bike to a full stop next to where they stood.

"How bad?" Merle asked.

"Got a bad cut on the side of his head. Im guessing his shoulder is dislocated too." Norm answered. He had texted them that he had found Daryl and about the wreck as he waited for the ambulance. "Y'all tell Baby Girl?"

Barry nodded. "Deb told her we found'im. That he was on his way here. Didn't say anything about the wreck. She said she was gonna let the docs check her now."

The back door to the ambulance opened and the paramedics unloaded Daryl. He was strapped down and was still trying to get up. He saw his brother as they wheeled him in and stopped his struggles.

"Merle..." he gasped, "Baby Girl...she..."

"She's here, bro. Been screamin for you." Merle answered, not feeling like sugar coating anything with his little brother, injured or not.

Barry just stood to the side as they wheeled him in, arms crossed over his chest. Norm knew he was barely hanging on, keeping himself from pulling Daryl off the stretcher and driving his knife in his gut. They followed the paramedics in as they rushed him into one of the trauma bays. It was less than twenty feet from the door to Amber's room. Barry and Norm stood outside the door to Daryl, Norm deciding that he needed to head to a meeting. The desire to use was raising it's ugly head after that day's events.

Deb slipped out of Amber's room, heading straight for her husband. He gathered her in his arms, his look questioning.

"They're about to check her. I'm afraid it's going to be bad. Kaye and I are probably going to hold her down. That's..." her voice broke. "That's our GRANDBABY! And Amber, she's never been checked without Daryl with her. The only doctor they have available is a man..." She lay her head on his shoulder, shuddering. Barry hugged her tight and then kissed her forehead.

"You best get back in there with her then. Don't worry. He's gonna pay."

She looked at him, frowning. "No!" she whispered. "Don't! If he dies..."

He shook his head. "I ain't gonna kill him. I wouldn't do that to her." Barry kept his voice low too, so Merle couldn't here from where he sat in a chair a few feet away. Deb nodded, putting a peck on his cheek before returning to her daughter.

The doctor came out of the trauma bay a few minutes later. "Are you Mr. Dixon's family?"

"Yeah, I'm his brother." Merle said scrambling up out of his chair.

"I'm his father in law." Barry said evenly. The doctor paled a little noting their leather. Everyone in the town knew who the DEMONS were. And Barry's ties to the hospitals administration were just as strong as they were two years previous when Amber was hurt.

"Well...he has been seriously injured. His left shoulder is completely dislocated. We just got the bleeding stopped from the laceration on his head. It'll require stitches of course. We still don't know about internal injuries. He was thrown from the vehicle so if there is internal bleeding it could be life threatening. We are going to put him under to set the shoulder and then send him for some scans."

They nodded and then Barry turned to Merle. "Go out to the waiting room. Let the other brothers know what's going on."

Merle raised an eyebrow. "I need to stay close. He's my little bro, pres."

"Merle." Barry said, voice taking on the tone he used at the table. "I said go out to the waiting room. It's an order." Merle looked between Barry and the doctor. The president went on. "Losing him would kill Amber. I'm not about to do that to her. But that's the only reason he's not dead yet."

Merle nodded and then slowly walked out to the waiting room, knowing his brother was about to pay, at least in part, for what he had done. Barry turned back to the doctor. The obstetrics physician that was on call walked past them and knocked on the door to Amber's room before stepping in. Seeing that and knowing what his daughter was about to go through hardened his resolve.

"Doc...do you know who I am?" Barry asked the wide eyed man.

"Y-yes sir. Everyone knows who you are."

"Then you know the power I have over your administrators. Now listen to me..." He went on to tell the doctor exactly what he was going to do, well actually what he WASN'T going to do. Then he finished up with "If you need help holding him down, let me know. I've got men just outside who can do it."

The doctor shook his head. "We have him restrained. He keeps trying to get up and get to his wife."

"He should have done that about six hours ago."

The doctor went back into the room again, leaving Barry alone in the hall. He slid down the wall to sit on his heels, hands over his bald head as he looked at the ground. He heard his daughter first, her husband a few seconds later.

They were each screaming for the other.

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Damn it was hot.

Daryl sat on the dock, boots swinging just above the water. He had a fishing pole in his hand and flicked it over his shoulder. The bait and hook sailed out over the pond and landed in the water with a "plop".

"Dammit!"

The little voice sounded just to his left and his head swiveled around. She sat right next to him, nearly touching. She couldn't have been more than five, with a wild head of tight raven curls that cascaded down her back. Daryl wondered who the hell had left their kid down at his place. Then he heard himself speak as if he were a passive observer inside his own head.

"Watch ya mouth, girl. Ya mama hears ya say that shit and she'll have my ass."

The girl looked up at him then and Daryl knew exactly who she was. She had her mama's face, cheeks rounded and skin porcelain with freckles across her nose but the eyes that looked back at him were just the same as Daryl had seen in the mirror for the last thirty six years.

She has my eyes.

Then she frowned, actually scowled, and he saw himself again.

"I can't get the worm on. You do it?" she asked, holding up a hook in one hand, red wiggler in the other. He felt himself frown then.

"Be careful, a'ight? Ya didn't stick yaself did ya?" He took the hook and worm, setting them on the dock before taking her hands in his. They were tiny, but not unfamiliar as he turned them over in his, calloused fingers checking for any cuts. Those hands were miniature duplicates of another pair that Daryl had held hundreds, maybe thousands of times. He knew who she was, and where they were now. And that scared him. Because if she was in this "in between" place with him, that meant she could be going too.

The girl climbed up into his lap and it was strange to Daryl that it didn't feel strange at all. Her body fit perfectly against his, little head on his chest. His arms came around her seemingly of their own volition, snuggling her deeper into him. She wore a pink tee shirt with a pair of denim shorts, feet bare as they curled against his work pants. Toenails so tiny they didn't seem real to him were painted the same color as her shirt. Of course, what other color would they be?

Daryl felt his head drop and his lips press against the top of her head for a moment. That buried his nose in the mass of black curls and her scent took him. She smelled like her mama, like clean water. But there was something underneath that too, a wild smell, like the woods and fresh earth. He realized it after a second, that it was his smell, mingled with her mama's. That made his chest feel tight and a knot swell in his throat.

"I don't feel good." she said quietly, fingers fiddling with a button on his shirt.

"I know. Me neither. But ya gotta fight."

"I'm too little."

Daryl shook his head, gently taking her chin in his hand to bring her face up to look at him. "Little don't matter for shit. Ya fight, ya hear me, girl? She needs ya."

The girl nodded and then looked down again. "You gonna fight too? Cause I don't want to stay if you don't."

"Ya mama cain't lose both of us, she cain't bear it. She's been through too much already. I'VE put her through too much."

"Then you stay too. We need you. She didn't mean it when she said we didn't. I know."

"I'll try. That's all I can promise." Daryl's arm was hurting like a bitch and he knew it was getting close to time to decide which way he was going.

She nodded against him and then looked up suddenly with a grin. "I almost forgot. That lady wanted me to tell you something."

"What lady?"

"The one that looks like you. She wanted me to tell you something..." she looked up as if in deep thought. "She said that you're not like him, you never were. And that she's proud of you. She said she's proud of Uncle Merle too, but not to tell him that. He'll get a big head, whatever that means."

Daryl clutched that little head against his chest then, his face pressed into those wild curls as they grew wet under him. He shook for a second before composing himself enough to speak. The pain in his body was overwhelming even as a lifetime of pain left his heart. Time was short and he had something to say.

"I love ya, Peach."

"I love you too, Daddy."

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"Peach..." Daryl muttered, feeling like he needed to be somewhere. He tried to sit up and pain shot through his left shoulder like lightening. He groaned through clenched teeth, barely able to keep from screaming out. His heavy eyelids were finally able to be forced open and he blinked for a few seconds. Then the haze lifted from his vision and he saw where he was. It was a hospital room and what looked like mid morning sunlight was pouring in the blinds. He tried to bring his right hand up to his face and found it weighted down. That weight was familiar.

Daryl turned his head just to the right and there she was. Baby Girl sat in a wheelchair, her head down on the bed next to his as she held his hand. She was asleep and looked like she needed it. Deep black circles were under her eyes and her face was back to the same pale it had been when the morning sickness was at it's worst. He slipped his hand from hers, meaning to only brush a stray strand of hair from her face. When his skin brushed hers though, she jumped, eyes popping open as she sat up.

"Daryl...oh my god...you're awake!" she gasped. She stood up, seemingly a bit unsteady, and then bent over the bed, carefully laying her head on his right shoulder as she sobbed. His left arm was bound across his chest tightly to immobilize the shoulder. He stroked her hair, shushing her. His memory came rushing back, all the way up until he was wheeled into the ER. Then it was just a haze of agony and then images of the dock for some reason.

"Yeah, I'm awake. Quit cryin, ya ain't 'sposed ta be upset. I've upset ya enough lately."

Baby Girl pulled back to look at Daryl's face and he wiped hers with his fingers. He never could stand to see tears running down her cheeks. "I love you, Desperado. I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "I love ya too, girl. But you ain't got a damn thing ta be sorry about. I deserved all of it, and more. I was a sorry lyin hateful son of a bitch, just like ya said. Jesus..." his voice broke and he rubbed a thumb over her cheekbone for a second and cleared his throat before he continued. "I'm so fuckin sorry, girl. I'll understand if ya don't forgive me. Just tell me you're alright. That you're gonna be alright..."

"I'm fine, Desperado. Just tired and weak. It's only been a day and a half since we both came in. And I forgive you. We've got stuff to work out, but I love you."

She dropped her forehead to his and Daryl moved his hand down her body to slip under the tshirt she wore to lay it against her stomach. His fingers slid just under the waistband of her sleep pants to cup the small curve of her lower belly in his palm. He had a moment of panic. Was it as big as it was before? Was it smaller now? He couldn't tell and it terrified him. He had never touched it before and couldn't tell now.

"Is she alright?" he asked, Amber immediately giving him a puzzled look. "The BABY! Is she alright? Good Lord, please tell me she's alright!"

She nodded slowly. "She's fine. But how did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That it's a girl. I had an ultrasound but you were out."

Daryl thought for a minute but whatever it was he was searching seemed just out of his reach. "I...I don't know. But it is a girl? Right? And our daughter's okay?"

She smiled through new tears. She. The baby. Our daughter. Not 'it' or 'that'. "Yes, Desperado. It's a girl. And she is just fine. I had a small tear in the placenta but it sealed off on it's own. I lost a lot of blood but we're both gonna be fine. As for you..."

"Nope. Not concerned with me right now. I'm hurtin enough to know I ain't dyin no time soon. Ya can tell me the rest later. I'm worried about y'all. Ya 'sposed ta be restin?"

Amber sighed. "Yes baby. I'm actually supposed to be on bedrest for the next couple of weeks until the tear is completely gone. But I've not bled since yesterday."

"Bedrest?" his eyes went to the wheelchair. "Then why ya sleepin in a wheelchair? Damn, girl. That's our kid ya got in there..."

"I'm fine. I wanted to be here when you woke up from the sedation." Daryl wasn't paying attention, doing his best to shift in the bed. "Baby, stop..." she tried to caution but he had already scooted over, turning onto his good side. Amber knew it had to hurt terribly, sweat popped out on Daryl's brow and she could hear his teeth grinding. But then he was laying on his right side, back against the siderail. He jerked his head to the space he had made.

"Get yer ass up here and lay down, girl."

"Baby..."

"Get up here and lay down or I swear ta God I'll get up out of this bed."

Amber saw the set of his jaw and knew he meant it. She dropped the rail on her side to climb in beside him carefully and then raised it back behind her. Then they lay facing one another, so close that they touched, Amber being careful of his injuries. Daryl touched her face, their noses only inches away from each other as he sought her eyes.

"I am SO fuckin sorry, girl. I was scared shitless but that ain't no excuse. I won't ever do that again, act like that. You need me, she needs me."

Amber nodded, "I know, baby. You're right, we do need you."

His hand stroked the skin just under her navel again and he dropped his head to look down.

"I'm so damn sorry. I won't never leave y'all again." Amber started to tell him to quit apologizing but she stopped herself, realizing as he went on that it wasn't her Daryl was talking to now.

"I'm SO sorry. Daddy'll be here from now on. I love ya, Peach. Ain't leavin ya or ya mama ever again. I promise."