A/N: In honor of The Walking Dead returning, a new chapter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

– – –

Bright and early the next morning, Carol discovered she'd been outside the walls for about an hour now, nobody had seen her slip out, and nobody had come chasing after her. She was beyond grateful for Abraham being on the wall today with Sasha and Michonne on patrol. He was dedicated and focused on his job, but now and then he'd sneak a glance at her. Carol timed it well enough to slip out without so much as a hushed creak from the gate.

It was such a beautiful day, the warm air blew at her in a gentle breeze, and she felt like she could breathe for the first time in what felt truly like lifetimes. She wasn't cramped or cooped up in some tiny room. There were no walls here, no restrictions, no one to tell her what to do and how to do it. It was just her and nature. And of course walkers, but she knew how to handle them.

She ambled through tall grass, eyes narrow at the bright sun above her, and she brushed her fingertips over the top of the tall grass. It tickled, and she smiled a little to herself, the silence like an embraced she'd longed to have. She almost didn't want to ever turn around and go back to Alexandria. She didn't want to be watched and wrapped in a blanket. She was pregnant, not dying, and she wished they'd understood that. She knew the risks at her age, better than they did, and even if it were to happen, it'd happen to her. So if she was going to possibly die, she wanted to breathe and be alive for as long as she could. They didn't have to understand. It was enough that she did.

Her feet halted at a disturbance in her journey, and she knew exactly what that disturbance was. She didn't want to face it head on. She didn't want to face it at all, but she had no choice. It wasn't something to simply elude. He wasn't something she could shake off her trail, not when he could simply track her by it.

She turned to face a very, very incensed redneck, and she braced herself for the torrent of statements that would come rolling off his tongue.

"What the hell are you doin'?!" he seethed when the space between them had closed. "What the hell were you thinkin'?!"

"I'm thinking I'm taking a walk. What does it look like?"

"You can take a damn walk inside the walls!"

"No, I can't. I can't breathe in those walls. I can't think when I'm being trapped in a box, and I needed to breathe. I needed fresh air, and I'm sorry you don't understand that, but I won't apologize for leaving."

"You shouldn't be out there alone! There's air within the damn walls of home!" Daryl shouted after the words left her lips. "You can't be out here, especially now!"

"Oh, I can't be out here?" She whirled around and threw her arms out. "I seem to be doing just fine!"

"You know what I meant." He stormed over to her. "C'mon, we're goin' back."

"No, we are not going anywhere, Daryl. I am going to continue what I was doing, and you can head back, if you want. Follow me, if you makes you feel better. I honestly don't care. I just need some air."

"There's plenty of air back in Alexandria—where it's safe!"

She opened her mouth to argue what she meant, but she stopped herself. She turned on her heel and walked away, furthering the distance between her and Alexandria. She couldn't be there right now. She had hoped once the pregnancy was cemented, Michonne and Rick would let up, but they were cracking down. She couldn't breathe air that wasn't theirs, and if she went outside, Tobin was right there. She couldn't take it anymore. She knew they wanted the best for her and the baby, but they were smothering her. She couldn't stand to sit in her room or be watched while doing simple tasks like tending to the garden or taking a walk. They didn't watch forever either. Tobin or Rick would make her stop after twenty minutes or so, pump her full of water so she didn't get dehydrated and then have her sit down. She couldn't deal with it today.

And she did know how hazardous and asinine this was, but in a couple months she wouldn't be able to take a deep breath in, so at least once before that time came, she wanted to suck in as much air as she could without lurkers. Or at least the Rick and Tobin lurkers. She loved Rick, but if he didn't stop treating her like she was some fragile porcelain doll, she was going to start locking him in his room. If she asked Michonne at the right time, hell she might help. She'd backed off, clearly able to detect Carol's irritation of being babied and coddled. Why the hell Rick and especially Tobin couldn't pick up on that? It wasn't a slight feeling. For fuck's sake, she even said it now and then, and Rick backed off. He even tried to placate her and her shitty mood with small treats now and then, and it was very kind of him, though she had a feeling it was Michonne who made them, but she let Rick give them to Carol. She was the new Mom of the household, and she was trying to keep the peace. Carol was grateful.

Carol heard Daryl's grunt behind her, and she almost smiled. She wasn't sure how she'd handle being alone with him, but at this point, after so many weeks of being caged and finally being free to roam, she didn't give a shit. She knew it was always on the edge of devouring her, what happened with the girls, but right now the only thing on her mind was the sweet thought of liberation. She wouldn't let Daryl take her back until she was ready, and she could only hope they didn't find themselves in a sticky situation before then.

– – –

The couple roamed in silence, Carol was leading them in no particular direction, merely enjoying the day and the scents of the wild flowers and trees, enjoying how the darkness hadn't caught up to them. Yet. She knew it drifting behind her and would eventually catch up to haunt her, but for now, it wasn't. She would pretend for a moment maybe things would be okay. She knew they wouldn't be, but the sweetest lies were the ones they told themselves, right?

Daryl's senses were heightened with Carol out there, even more so with the baby inside of her, and he wanted to grab her and drag her back to Alexandria. He'd love to throw her over his shoulder and haul her back to safety. He knew she wouldn't go along with that. She wasn't a child to be saved and led back to Alexandria. She was an adult/royal pain in his ass who was going to give him a fucking stroke one of these days, he swore she would. He was just waiting for it to happen, like he'd wake up, and she'd have done something or gone somewhere he couldn't track, and it would be all over.

However he couldn't deny the warmth in his chest at her demeanor. She'd been so easily pissed the last couple of weeks, and he kept away from her, because he didn't want to add to the reasons she was livid. Though watching her simply walk ahead of him, he could tell she was relaxed, maybe even a little happy. He hadn't seen her like this in a long time, and he wanted that to last for her. He knew she didn't have much joy these days, what with Tobin and Rick always on her like flies on crap, so he'd watch her back, let her smell the roses and be a silent shadow behind her. It was the least he could do.

About an hour into their meandering, Daryl picked up his pace to be beside her. He didn't know anything about pregnant women and exercise, but he knew it couldn't be too strenuous, like this. They'd been walking for a long time, and she hadn't stopped for water or food, and he had to draw the line.

"Hey, stop."

She looked at him. "Why?"

"Just stop." He reached out for her, but she stopped walking, and he noticed she was out of breath. "I brought some water." He removed the backpack from his shoulders and dug out a lukewarm bottle of water. It'd have to do. "Here."

She unscrewed the cap and drank what she intended to be a small sip but ended up nearly chugging it.

"I brought some food too." He sat down on the ground, and she sat on a rock across from him. "Denise made a couple of these for you, said the protein'd be good for the baby."

She squinted at him. "She just happened to make them for me today?"

He shook his head. "Well, I made 'em. She just taught me how."

"You made these?" She reached out to accept the small, lumpy cake from him. "For me?"

The tips of his hears reddened. "For the kid," he mumbled.

"Thank you."

"We ain't got much of it, and I dunno if you can even taste it, but there's a bit of chocolate in it too." He sifted through the bag to avoid eye contact. If he was blushing, he would blame it on the heat, but he didn't want to chance it. If she saw him blushing, she'd tease him and make it worse.

"What did you bring for yourself?"

"I could always hunt for myself," he reminded her.

"You only brought food for me?" She frowned. "Daryl, you've been out here as long as I have. Why didn't you bring more food?"

"I planned on takin' you right back, and I got somethin', just don't really want it."

"Well, eat it."

"I ain't hungry. I'll save it for the trip back." He chewed on his thumbnail. "But you eat, all right? Thing better be gone before we head out."

She pursed her lips and moved to sit down on the ground, her legs brushing against his, and she pried off a piece of the cake cookie thing Daryl had made her. "Where do you think we're going?"

He shrugged. "Ain't much out here."

"You and Rick searched here?"

"Yeah, a while back. There's a couple cabins ahead, but ain't much else." He raised his legs. "Where are you headed?"

"I don't know." She popped in the piece she'd freed from the gooey cluster and focused on chewing it.

"I get it—the needing space thing. Rick and Tobin are always on you, so I get why you wanted out. You just can't do this anymore. I mean, not alone."

"I'm not alone." She was too hungry to pick at the cluster, so she tore into it, and it was surprisingly delicious. It was gooey from the sun, but it was sweet, despite not having a lot of chocolate in it. She wondered if he used honey. It wouldn't amaze her to learn he'd stick his hand into a hive for honey. She had noticed a couple jars in the pantry with the honey and even the honeycomb. She hadn't gotten to ask Olivia where it came from, but from how this tasted and how sticky it was, she didn't need to.

"Baby can't do much to protect either one of you." He shook his head. "You should've told Michonne or somebody you were headin' out."

"You didn't even know I was gone?"

"I wanted to give you that, and I asked Rick where you were. He said at Tobin's, but I asked Tobin where you were, and he said at home. Figured it out pretty quick from there."

She smiled a little. "I used to use that on my parents. Say I was staying with a friend, and my friend would say she was staying with me, and we'd...wander for hours."

He'd never heard her talk about her parents before, and he nodded, wondering if she'd tell him more. He was a little sad when she didn't continue, but he was happy to learn that about her. He knew her life now pretty well, but her past was a mystery to him. He knew about Ed, but nothing beyond that. He didn't even know who or what the hell she was before the world went to shit. A housewife, maybe. He wasn't going to ask. He didn't want to make her think back to that time in her life.

"Here." He scooted the water she'd been drinking closer to her.

She leaned over for the bottle but noticed movement in the trees behind them. "Daryl." She reached for her knife.

At her going for her knife, he jumped up with his crossbow to kill whatever was approaching, and he found a female walker stumbling toward them. She had been a walker for a while now, moss clinging to her chest, her face sunken in, and there was no blood on her mouth. She growled at them, a brittle and weak sound, and he was about to take aim and kill it when he saw movement behind her.

"Shit." He grabbed blindly at Carol. "We gotta move!"

There were about twenty walkers behind her, maybe more way in the back, and they could take them out, but Daryl wouldn't risk the baby this way. They were close to those cabins he mentioned anyway. He bashed the female walker's face when Carol grabbed the backpack, and he made sure she was in front of him, telling her which was to go.

The walkers had spotted them, stumbling along behind them, and Daryl remembered most of the cabins were in shit condition, but there were one of two that were sturdy. He and Rick had searched them for food, clothes, seeds and medicine. Daryl made a note of the cabin with all the bird feeders. It'd be a good safe house, somewhere to lie low until walkers had passed. The wood was strong, could hold against a few of them pounding on it, and the windows were small, mostly there for decoration.

"Get inside!" He turned and unsheathed his knife, taking out two of the walkers hot on their heels, and he dove inside after Carol.

"The door won't shut."

Shit, that's right. He and Rick busted the door down to get inside. "Hold on." He could hear the walkers approaching, and he threw his weight against the door, his arm around her, and he told her he had it. "Find somethin' we can block the door with," he whispered.

Carol dropped the bag on the floor and scanned the interior of the cabin. It was a three room cabin, and this room was both the kitchen and the living room, most of it fitted against the back wall, but the couch was sturdy. It'd be hard to move, but that's what they needed. She just hoped she could move the damn thing herself.

Moving it while on the rug had been a challenge. It wouldn't budge, and Daryl could see it wasn't moving. He listened with his ear against the door for a moment then ran over and lifted the end up and off the rug. Carol would have done the same had he let her, but it was a heavy piece of furniture, so he did it himself. Together they pushed it to the door, it scrapped across the floor loudly, but just as a walker found the door, they'd slammed it shut. Its hand had been caught, but Daryl grabbed it and sliced it off, tossing it a nearby bucket.

Panting, Carol collapsed onto the couch, and Daryl slumped against the wall momentarily. He pushed off to secure the windows, and he covered the windows with the many painted pictures of the woods. It wouldn't keep them out, but they couldn't look inside. They wouldn't know they were in here if they kept quiet. They'd eventually move on, or maybe an animal would dart by and get their attention. Either way, it aided them in laying low.

He covered the window in the bathroom, though there was little need as it was small. Better safe than sorry though. He tested the sink and was surprised when water gushed out. It was brown and smelled, but after a few seconds of letting it run, it became clear. He smirked. "Hey, Carol."

"What?"

He exited the bathroom. "We got runnin' water. It must be hooked up a well somewhere around here."

"That looks like a gas stove." Carol pointed out the green and white stove in the corner of the room. There was one just like it at the grove. Lovely. "Whoever built this place didn't want to rely on anyone else."

Daryl crouched down across from Carol, his back against the wall, and he ran his eyes over the room. "Ain't a bad place be trapped in."

"There's a good place to be trapped in?" Carol rubbed the back of her neck.

"Better than the last time."

"In the train car?"

"Well, time before that, I guess."

"You don't have to tell me."

"No, it wasn't like the train car. It was after the prison. Beth and me...we got stuck in the trunk of a car for hours, waitin' on walkers to pass. That was hell. It was hot, worse with us bein' crammed in there, and I'm pretty sure my sweat was sweatin'." He rubbed his chin. "We were breathin' each others breath."

"Ew."

He nodded. "So, this place ain't too bad." He peeked at her then stared at her lap. "Carol." His voice was a low quiver, and it shimmered in his eyes.

She frowned and followed his gaze to where blood stained her pants. She pressed her legs together and stood up, heading to the bathroom.

"Carol!" He tried to catch on her, but she was quick when she wanted to be, and his heart raced. "Carol?"

She didn't answer him, and he felt his blood run cold. He thought over all of the things that could be wrong or—or right, even, but they had just ran a good half mile to get here, trying to flee a handful of walkers, and then they shoved the hundred pound couch against the door. He didn't like what kept popping up in his mind, and he couldn't keep the image of blood on her pants out of his head.

––

About ten minutes later the door opened, Daryl rose up from the floor, and Carol didn't seem distressed at all. He had nearly had a stroke, and she looked as though she'd just brushed her teeth. What the hell?

"It's okay."

"Okay? You're bleedin'! That ain't okay!"

She smiled faintly at his concern. "It's just spotting, okay? It happens."

"Are you sure? The baby's okay?" He came close to touching her stomach, worried that this might have been more than whatever spotting was. He wanted nothing more than to get her to Harlan.

"I'm sure. I have a lot of blood in my body right now, and this is common." She could see he wasn't fully buying it. "Do you want me to go into detail about it? It involves words like discharge and vagina."

He turned blood red, and she chuckled at the sight. "You're okay?"

"I'm okay."

He exhaled, nearly sagging against the door frame with relief. "I—I thought—"

"I know what you thought. I thought it too, but this happened before with Sophia." She leaned on the frame. "Are there any spare clothes here?"

"Probably in the bedroom. Why?"

"We'll be stuck here awhile, and I'd rather not be wearing this the entire time." She pushed off the frame of the door and headed to the bedroom, finding the drawers empty, save for a few blankets. She pressed her lips together, biting on her bottom lip, and she spotted a chest at the foot of the bed. She bent down in front of it and lifted the lid, finding clothes inside. They were mostly men's clothes, but she found a couple pairs of woman's jeans and tank tops underneath all of the sweatshirts and plaid button ups. She even found a towel that smelled like wood from being in the chest for so long, but it was clean. At least with no stains or signs of it having been used before.

Daryl stopped pacing when Carol stepped out of the bedroom, his eyes closing in on the items in her hand. "You're showerin'?"

"You said the water worked."

"Well, yeah, it does."

"Then I'll see you when I get out." She paused in the doorway to tease him. "Unless you'd like to join me."

He flushed. "S—stop."

"Your loss." She closed the door and turned the lock, though it wasn't necessary. She knew he wouldn't try anything. He'd probably double check to guarantee the house was secure then sit and wait for the walkers to waddle off. She hoped it wouldn't be long, but then again the longer they were outside, the longer they were away from Alexandria. Their lack of food did put a damper on things, and she didn't want to see Daryl like that again. He was pale with terror. She'd never seen him look like that before. Well, there was one time...but she was so out of it. It might not have been his actual expression.

She glanced back at the door, wondering which Daryl was more afraid of losing: the baby, or her?

– – –

Daryl knew there was no food in the house. He and Rick had cleaned it out of all its preserves and the many cans of tuna, but he had hoped for Carol's sake they'd missed something. He could try and slip out to hunt, but he didn't want to leave her with the walkers, or have her think he abandoned her. They couldn't leave together with the walkers there, and he wasn't going to have her shimmy through a window, that blood natural or not. He wanted her to stay here and rest, so he'd have to come up with some way to get food.

He pulled a picture down to see if any walkers remained. He could hear them by the door, but nowhere else. He wasn't sure he could fit through this window, to be honest. The bedroom window, maybe, but not this one.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't turn around. "Just checkin' for walkers."

"I could hear them in the bathroom."

"Yeah, I know, but if we're stuck in here for a long time, we need food. I was thinkin' I could slip out by myself and get some."

"If you can slip out, why not both of us? We could get out of here."

"'Cause I don't want you out there." He turned to face her, blinking at the woman he found. She looked so different standing there in snugly fit blue jeans and a blue tank top. She was shrugging into a red plaid button up, glaring at him for his statement, and he tried to collect his thought. He'd seen her in a lot of clothes before, but not something so...fitting. She looked really beautiful, the blue of the shirt brought out the blue of her eyes, and her hair was damp from the shower. He bet she smelled like soap.

"I can handle some walkers, Daryl." She crossed her arms. "If it's the spotting you're worried about—don't. I told you it's normal."

"Be lucky I ain't draggin' you to Harlan's," he grumbled.

She rolled her eyes. "You're being ridiculous."

"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm bein' overprotective and irrational, but I ain't about to let you climb out of a window and fight I don't know how many walkers! Now, you wanted to get out of Alexandria for a time, and you have! Now, we're doin' this my way, 'cause I'm not lettin' anythin' happen to you or the baby, so go lie down and rest. If I can deal with these walkers, I will, and we'll go back, but if not—well, get comfy."

She lowered her arms and averted her eyes. "Fine."

He narrowed his eyes. "Really? You're just gonna listen to me now?"

"I put your life at risk by not turning back, so fine. I'll go rest, but you're not leaving without me."

"You need to eat. The baby needs to eat. There ain't food in here."

"You're not going out there alone. I won't have you risk your life for food you may or may not find. I'll be fine. I just ate that oat chocolate cluster you made me. There's still some left, if you're hungry."

"I got some canned chicken, but it's noon, Carol. That leaves all night, possibly all morning, if the walkers don't clear out."

"One missed meal isn't going to hurt anybody."

"Yeah, but it could hurt the baby."

She threw her arms up partway. "We're getting nowhere. The baby will be fine. I'll eat the rest of that cluster later. Stop worrying so much. I know how pregnancy works better than you do, all right? Give me a little trust here."

"Fine. I trust you."

"Thank you."

A beat.

"So..." She motioned behind her with her thumb. "Do you mind if I take a short nap? I'm exhausted."

"Ain't nothin' else to do here."

She peered at him over her shoulder once in the bedroom. "Please, don't go anywhere, Daryl."

He gave a slight nod. "Get some sleep."

She didn't believe him, and honestly if he wanted to slip out, she couldn't stop him. She didn't like knowing he'd be out there with ten or fifteen walkers on his tail. He could manage two or three, but any more than that was pushing it. She didn't want him danger. She didn't want him to die, because he was trying to feed her and the baby. Because he was worried out of his mind about the baby. The thought of anything happening to him made her want to be ill, and her doubt must have shown in her eyes, because he called out to her.

"I'll stay with you till you fall asleep." He sat on the wooden chest.

She smiled weakly and lied down, moving the pillow to the foot of the bed by him, and she didn't bother with the covers. She swallowed and sighed. "I didn't mean to get you caught up in this."

He turned to face her, folding his legs. "You didn't make me come after you."

"If I had never left, you wouldn't be in this position."

"If you'd never left, you woulda put Tobin's head through the front door." His lips twitched at the soft laugh she gave. "I told you before. I get it. Don't apologize." He lowered his voice, speaking softer, "Get some sleep."

"You'll stay here?" She gazed up at him.

He nodded.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about last night. At Eric's. What I said and suggested..." She shook her head. "I''m not sorry about what I said, just how I said it. I don't want to put you in an awkward situation. I know you and Tobin don't exactly see eye to eye, and I wanted to avoid more conflict."

"I know," he murmured. "It's all right, and you were right about Tobin...havin' more of a right than me, but I'll get it sorted. And I'll be here when you wake up, so go ahead and get some sleep." He didn't like it, but he understood it, even if he did think it was bullshit. She was right, but he was enraged. He'd over it, and he'd get it sorted, like he'd told her. He just needed a minivan. He'd be there until he felt Tobin could provide proper support and protection for them, which may never happen, but who could say what the future held?

She closed her eyes, the sounds of the walkers growling just outside did little to lull her to sleep, but she could hear Daryl breathing too. The sound of it was like a trance, her breathing subconsciously began to match his, and her eyelids were too heavy to hold up. She drifted off.

Daryl waited about twenty minutes—or what he assumed was twenty minutes—before he tiptoed out of the room. He had two cans of chicken, but only two and a less than half of the oat cake he'd made for her wasn't good enough. She needed real food. She was lying to herself if she thought she could get through the rest of the day on that. He always heard how much pregnant women ate, and he knew if they had the supplies then Lori would eaten a lot too.

He was positive there was a river nearby. He could catch some fish and cook them up on the stove. Fish was good for pregnant woman, right? Hell, he had no clue, but fish oil was good for people. If he caught a lot, Carol could eat as much as she wanted. She might throw it all up in the morning, but oh well. He'd rather she puked up a big meal than two measly oats. She could chew him out around forkfuls of fish.

He used the window in the kitchen, having to toss his crossbow out first. He was used to slipping in and out of small places, and he'd knocked on the door to draw them there. Carol slept like the dead lately, so he didn't worry about waking her with the knocking.

He left the window slightly open and headed out, taking out one of the walkers on his way.

– – –

Carol was woken up by the sound of something shattering. She shot up, pulling her knife from her belt, and she found herself in darkness. She felt through the unlit room, discovering the door was closed, and she threw it open, finding Daryl in the living room, cleaning up a mess of guts and bones with the light of a couple oil lamps.

"What is that?" She covered her mouth with her hand at the smell.

Daryl tossed the bits into the bucket with the walker hand and grabbed a dishtowel to clean off his hands. "What it looked like."

She entered the room and found about four fish cleaned and cut on the kitchen table. She turned a sharp glare to him. "You said you weren't going to leave."

"Till you fell asleep." He waved a hand down himself. "And I'm fine. Like you said before: it's done. Arguin' now ain't gonna change that I went out. Just be glad we have real food."

She slipped her knife into its sheath and exhaled. "I'm going to wash my face."

He smirked when she disappeared into the bathroom. She looked adorable just then, her hair sticking out in all directions, her furious glare blunt on her still sleepy face, and she was practically swimming in that plaid shirt. He'd never thought of her as adorable before, but he had the same feeling in his chest as he did when Judy did something cute. Only it hurt at the same time. He didn't know why, but he had to cook, so he didn't waste time on it.

Carol emerged from the bathroom and sat on the couch, helping herself to the rest of the oat cluster he'd made for her, and she finished the water from earlier as well. She watched Daryl cook, and she realized it was the first time she'd seen him actually cook. Normally Carol did the cooking after he'd gutted and cleaned whatever animal he'd caught for them. It was a nice change, even more so when she envisioned him in a chef's hat and apron.

"What?" Daryl caught her staring.

"Nothing." She licked the stickiness off her fingers.

"How was your nap?"

"Does it count as a nap if I slept from noon to nightfall?" He shrugged. "Then it was fine. I slept better than I thought I would."

"That's good, 'cause we're stayin' the night."

"I figured." She stood up and approached him. "I appreciate you doing this."

"Hmm?" His gaze moved to her face.

"Thinking of ways to keep baby out of harm's way, making sure the baby has enough to eat, that I'm resting enough—I appreciate it. You're treating the baby like a top priority without...treating me like I'm four years old. You don't know what that means to me."

"It ain't just the baby," he corrected, "that I'm tryin' keep outta harm's way."

The air around them softened, Carol wasn't sure what to say to that, and Daryl could tell. He didn't want this to grow awkward, so he asked her to hand him one of the oil lamps so he could see better. She held it to him, and he checked on the fish. He wanted to make sure it thoroughly cooked, and he'd give it a bit longer before it was there.

"Gonna be a minute." He gently took the lamp from her. "Why don't you sit? Or find a book. Probably all about nature, but better than just sittin' around."

She stepped back, finding the small pile of books between the TV and the wall. She bent down to search through the covers, and Daryl was right about the nature. She found one on herbs and medicinal plants and identifying them. It couldn't hurt to learn about that type of thing, so she curled up on the couch and began to read.

––

Dinner had been nice, Carol even joked about him cooking for her more often, and the sound of walkers outside became background noise. He could see parts of the old Carol, the one he knew at the prison, the one who hadn't dealt with whatever went down with Lizzie and Mika, and he found he didn't miss her. He missed the light in her eyes, the genuine laughs she gave and how open she was with people close to her. He felt a wall between them, and he didn't know when it went up or if he'd ever see it come down.

She cleaned off the plates out of habit, Daryl gave the couch an extra push to make sure it'd stay put through the night, and Carol tried to offer to keep watch, but he wouldn't let her. She wasn't tired, but she could sleep. She decided to try and trick him into sleeping, but in the end, she was out cold on the bed, and he was beside her, listening to the walkers. He wouldn't be able to sleep with them outside, but he'd locked the bedroom door, and the window was blocked. He could bash it open if he had to, but they were as safe he could make them.

He looked over at Carol as she slept, his eyes tracing the outline of her face, and they moved down her body to the shirt he could almost see in the dark. It was a relatively bright blue, so even the dark he could see it. He rolled onto his side, listening to Carol exhaled slowly, and he tried to imagine her as round as Lori had been. He wasn't sure he could, to be honest. If he did, he'd think about what happened to Lori. He couldn't think of that happening to Carol. He refused to think of it. Carol and Lori were two different women. Lori couldn't even have Carl without a C-section, but Carol could. Well, she'd never mentioned it, but she never mentioned having Sophia via a C-section either.

He gnawed on his bottom lip. They had a clinic. They had two doctors. They had the equipment to keep her alive, to deliver the baby no matter what happened. He trusted Denise. She'd proven herself, though he knew she had it in her, and she was a good person. She'd do anything to help Carol and the baby survive labor. He knew that, and he knew Harlan wouldn't want to lose another child. He knew Harlan didn't know Carol at all, but he was a good guy. He had been thrilled at the sight of Carol's baby on the screen, or so was the impression Daryl had gotten when he came out to talk to Denise. He'd keep them alive.

Carol was strong. She had this will like he'd never seen. He knew shit happened to her when the prison went down, after Rick dumped her on the side of the road. He knew she might never tell him about it, but she came back. She saved them at Terminus, and she saved the people of Alexandria during the wolf attack. She wasn't indestructible, but she knew how to survive, how to protect people, and she was good at it. She was as good as he was at it, and he knew she'd come out of a possible C-section alive. Or any other complications that might occur, like breech birth. He'd heard Hershel talking about it, and he didn't have all the information, but she'd be fine. The kid would be fine. Sophia was a tough cookie too, just caught off guard by this piece of shit world. He wouldn't let that happen to this kid. He'd sooner die than let anything happen to this kid.

He didn't realize until he felt movement that he'd moved his hand over her stomach. He instantly tensed, but Carol was still asleep. He wanted to move his hand and roll away and forget his hand had been anywhere near her when she was unconscious, but his hand didn't comply. There was something weird bubbling up inside of him, and he felt sad again. It slammed down on his chest, and he lowered his gaze.

He hoped the baby was okay after today's chaos, and it wasn't just for Carol's sake either. He greatly cared for Carol, and it didn't matter that it was Tobin's kid, because it was hers too. It was hers, and he cared about it as well. It was his family too. He didn't want anything to happen to the baby, not even for it to be hungry for even a night. He hoped the spotting was just that, because if anything happened to this kid, to Carol's baby, he'd snap. It was awful what happened with Maggie and Glenn, and he couldn't handle it happening again. Again and to Carol. Two unborn babies gone? He wouldn't be the only one to snap.

He leaned over and whispered, "You gotta hang in there till the end, okay? I know I ain't one to make demands, 'cause I ain't your dad or mom and you don't know me, but be tough, okay? We got one Ass Kicker out here, and she needs a friend, so be like your mom and stay strong. Your dad's...kind of a pussy, so be like her." He stroked her stomach then realized what he was doing and stopped. If she woke up to this, she'd probably smack him then demand to know what the hell he was doing. He didn't know himself. He was ordering around a tadpole, for fuck's sake. Hell, maybe she should smack him.

His hand left her stomach, he rolled over and closed his eyes, feeling ridiculous, but a little better about the spotting. He didn't know if the kid could hear him—probably not—but he tried. He tried, and maybe the kid did hear, and it'd listen. He hoped so, even if it was childish. He wanted this kid to be all right, wanted Carol to be all right, but for now all he could do was tend to the kid, and if talking to it helped then he'd clear his entire damn schedule for the next eight months and talk to the kid. Hell, he'd even try bribery. I'll teach you how to use the crossbow I wouldn't even let Carl touch, if you come out screaming and healthy. The thought nearly made him chuckle, but he remembered the last time a kid touched his crossbow, and the urge died in his throat. Maybe he'd make a bow for the kid, instead.

Carol opened her eyes when Daryl fell asleep, moving her hand to where his had been on her belly, and she smiled a little at his near inaudible words. No matter how fierce and ruthless he could be at times, Daryl Dixon was the biggest softie for babies. She rolled her head to the side to gaze at the man, and her smile widened a bit, a fervent hope blossoming in her chest, and she closed her eyes, reaching out so that her fingers barely brushed against the back of his shirt, and she fell into a deep sleep.

– – –

In the morning, Daryl woke to Carol's morning sickness, and he cringed at the sound. He sat down on the floor beside her with a glass of water, and when the waves of nausea finally left her empty, she accepted the glass of water and spit it out into the toilet, flushing it. She sat back and leaned against him, and he wasn't sure what to do, so he reached over and grasped her hand.

"You okay?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes. "Give me a minute, before we head out."

"Take your time."

They stayed sitting together until her stomach settled, Daryl checked outside for walkers, finding a few remained, but instead of dealing with them, he chucked the fish guts out the bedroom window. They dove for them, and he guided Carol from the house. He wrapped his arm around her back at how green she still looked, and they walked back toward home.