Disclaimer: I own nothing.

––

Rosita entered the house, it was so silent that she could hear her boots on the wooden floors, and she continued to the den. It where the boys likely were. Abraham had to make a call to his kids, to check in on them, and she had a mission of her own to complete.

She still felt the guilt of breaking her word to Carol and hurting her fresh in her chest, but she had to believe this was best for the baby. She had to believe it was best for everyone. She didn't know the plan for this little nugget, but she suspected Carol didn't either. Adoption couldn't be the best plan. Daryl was a good man, and he would be a good father. Rosita would be here for him, and she would be here to ensure this all worked out. She had a big family, and she knew about babies, so this little one would be all right. She gave her word to Carol that this baby would be safe, and it would be, just not in the way Carol imagined.

She stepped into the den where Daryl and Merle were waiting, and she stopped. Merle was spread out on the couch as always, looking over something, and Daryl was pacing the room. He wore the same blue shirt and black jeans that he had on yesterday. He didn't get any sleep, did he? Oh well.

Daryl halted at the sight of Rosita in the doorway, and his eyes moved down the carrier. He lowered his arms, an unusual feeling settling inside of him, and he bent down. He looked over his daughter, taking in her light skin and how she slept. She was beautiful and tiny. She looked more like whoever her mother was asleep.

"Could I hold her?" he whispered, rising.

"Of course." Rosita gently set the carrier down and freed the small infant from the buckles. She carefully handed her to him. "Support her head. Yeah." She stepped back.

Daryl held her close to his chest, just watching her, somehow disbelieving this moment was real. For some reason he found himself swaying gently side to side, something inside of him making him do so when the infant began to wake from being picked up and handed over. He felt a burning in the back of his eyes, but he didn't try to blink it back. He didn't feel the need to. He just smiled and felt the burning spread across his face. "Sophia," he whispered to no one in particular.

Rosita nodded. She would handle the birth certificate. It was better that way.

"Sophia Anne," he added. That was her name. That was who she was. Sophia Anne Dixon, his daughter.

Sophia yawned, opening her eyes.

Rosita smiled. "I think she likes the name too."

Merle looked at the child for the first time since Rosita brought her in, and he saw the look on his brother's face. He had never seen a look like that on Daryl's face before, and he knew what would have to happen. He had been discussing it with the others and Rosita for a week now, and this confirmed what he suspected. It also confirmed that no matter how angry he pretended to be about the kid, he knew he was just as happy as Daryl was. He was an uncle. Hell, he never thought that'd happen. He didn't think a lot of things would happen, but they had, and they were for the best. This would be best for everyone as well.

He swung off the couch and looked at his niece. "Huh."

"What?" Daryl looked at his brother.

"Nothin', just glad she didn't get your nose."

Rosita smiled and noted Merle's nod. "Go take her into the nursery. I'll go get the bags from the car."

Merle waited until Daryl left to speak. "We'll talk to the guys tonight. All over his duties are mine now. I know it's what he wants."

"I'll arrange a meeting. Abraham will be in tonight. Family business."

"All right. Thank you, for bein' there."

"I had to."

"Well, that's that. Let's get back to work."

She nodded and headed to the car, spotting Daryl in the nursery with Sophia. She wondered for a moment if he knew, but she shrugged it off. He couldn't have known. It was just a coincidence. She hoped he never found out, and she hoped Carol never found out. She didn't want to see the day they met, knowing exactly who the other was.

– – –

Daryl handed Carol a cup of coffee, sitting beside her, and he looked at his men. Abe, Oscar, and Axel. The second they heard Sophia was in danger, they all came running. Daryl wouldn't let Noah be involved, but he was calling to try and help out. Daryl felt bad, but it had to be done. He wouldn't have him be killed or worse, because he stuck his nose into something he couldn't get out of. These three knew the risks, have been in this world for more than a couple years and had the skill—or some skills—to survive; Noah didn't. He had paid of his debt and then some. It was time for Noah to live his own life.

"So, why are we meeting in your kitchen?" Carol asked Axel, curling her fingers around the painted mug.

"You said secure," he answered. "And it's the only one with enough space."

"And it's the only place I can meet with you." Rosita took her seat. "And you'll need me."

"Why do we need you?" Carol inquired, lifting her cup to her mouth. "He isn't on the grid."

"I do more than computer work." Rosita crossed her legs. "And I owe you this."

She lowered her cup, swallowing coffee. "I'm not angry with you."

"I know you're not, but what I did to you was wrong, and this is how I make it right."

"Fine, but whatever guilt you have isn't because of me." She heard a knock on the door and went to answer it.

"Who is that?" Oscar looked at Daryl. "I thought it was just us."

"I thought so too." He leaned back to see who Carol had brought in.

Carol returned to the kitchen with Caesar behind her, and she could tell they were on the verge of a fight breaking out. "This is Caesar Martinez. I believe you three already know him."

"What the hell?" Daryl was out of his chair. "Carol—"

"I already know the risks," Caesar interrupted. "And I know my niece is in danger. I'm in this as much as any of you, and I won't back down. I'm here, and nothing any of you say will be keep me away."

Daryl huffed. "We need to keep this a small group."

"And one more isn't gonna kill you."

Carol met Daryl's eyes. "He's family, and I'm with him on this. He's just as good as any of your men, and I won't keep him in the dark, not again. Besides he has family at risk too. A wife and child to be exact."

He returned to his seat. "Fine, but we're out of chairs."

"I prefer to stand anyway." He leaned against the counter behind Rosita.

Carol folded her arms. "We need to keep this brief. Caesar and I have to be at the station soon. I need as much information on the sniper as you can gather, and we don't have a lot of time. Less than seventy-two hours. I know how he works and how he can vanish in the blink of an eye, and it's only a matter of time before he strikes and disappears into the wind."

"I'll be with Sophia," Abe told the group. "I have military experience, and I have a safe house. I'll protect her with my life. You don't need to worry about her."

"Where is she now?"

"With a friend of mine. He's home schooling her at the safe house."

"Okay." She rubbed her palms together. "Axel?"

"Oscar and I are going to a few places this evening. There are a lot of people shaken by the loss of power, and a lot of them trying to raise themselves up. We should be able to persuade them with information on their competition and with what we have left."

She nodded. "Good. What about you, Rosita?"

"I'm going to call a friend of mine, see if I can find out anything on the sniper's childhood. I'll continue to work on that until I find what I need. What you found helps with that."

"What did you find?" Daryl glanced from Carol to Rosita.

"We can't comment on that just yet," Caesar spoke for Carol.

Daryl scoffed.

"What will you be doing?" Carol changed the subject. "Daryl?"

"I'm going to my brother's contacts. They make...gifts for us, and they made things for Phillip's pet too. They might know something, and I still have funds to bribe them with."

"What? I thought we got all lf your accounts."

"I'm not stupid, and I know how to hide things." He rose from his chair. "Meetin' is over.

Axel departed with Oscar, Rosita and Abe headed out together, and Caesar waited for Carol to finish her call with Michonne. He could tell Daryl didn't like him, and Caesar wasn't fond of Daryl for all he put Carol through, and what he didn't know he'd put Carol through. He knew now, Caesar was sure, but that didn't excuse what he did. He was just an asshole to Caesar and that opinion wouldn't change unless Daryl proved himself to be more.

"We should go." Carol stuffed her phone into her pocket. "Michonne wants to talk to us."

"I'll drive." Caesar pushed off the wall.

"I'll talk to you later, Daryl."

"You won't actually." He adjusted the sleeve to his leather jacket.

Carol stopped. "What?"

"Didn't know you were so fond of me," he teased.

"What would keep you from coming back?"

"The people I gotta see. If things go wrong, I won't be back. If they go right, I can't risk coming back too soon. They might think I'm trying to turn them in, and I'll need time to convince otherwise. Then I'll need time to lose 'em, but when I do...I'll call you on a burner phone."

"Daryl, if it's that risky then don't bother."

"I have to. She's our daughter, and I'll do what I have to do to keep her safe. I'll be fine, just letting you know I might not be back tomorrow or the day after."

"I don't like this."

"Neither do I, but it's for the best. I'll call."

"Soon."

He nodded and exited the house.

"You okay?" Caesar stood beside her.

"Gotta be." She met his eyes. "We shouldn't keep Michonne waiting. She'll get suspicious."

Caesar drove to the station, finding Michonne and the others in the middle of a meeting with a profiler. Carol knew this man. His name was Tobin, and he was good. He was just the man they might need if they didn't already know this killer. She just needed to know how to find him, not how to get into his head. She had been there before, and she would go there again to find him. If that's what it took.

"Williams, Martinez." Michonne introduced them to Tobin, though Carol knew him through a different case. "This is Tobin Reynolds."

"FBI, right?" Carol shook his hand.

He smiled. "It's good to see you again, Williams."

"You two have met before?" Caesar looked from Tobin to Carol.

"Yes, we have. It was a long time ago." She took a drink of her coffee. "So, what brings you here?"

"The sniper brings me here."

"Oh? Well, good. We need someone like you around here. Am I right to assume you've been debriefed?" He nodded. "Good. I have something I want to show you then."

"Caesar, I need to speak with you," Michonne said behind Carol. "It pertains to a different case."

"Yes, ma'am." He knew what and who it was about.

Carol led Tobin toward her desk, watching Michonne and Caesar head into her office, and she knew it was serious when Michonne closed the blinds. She cleared her throat and dug out the folder from her desk, setting her coffee down to flip through it.

"How are you taking this?" Tobin met her eyes.

"As well as I can."

"You just went through hell, and now this?" He shook his head. "I can't promise we'll find him, but I'll do my best."

"I don't expect you to work miracles."

"I know, but I won't let you down with this."

She smiled a little and locked eyes with him. "You didn't let me down before either, Tobin." She slid the picture of the engraved rifle over to him. "Now let's focus on the present."

"All right." He picked up the picture. "Does this mean Ed or E.D.?"

"No idea, but it's a start."

"And there were no finger prints?"

"I'm starting to think he might not have any," Carol told him with little hesitation.

"What makes you think that?"

"All of those guns—his guns—and not a single one has finger prints? He couldn't have known the NYPD were coming to save me and the others to wipe all of them down. And I doubt he cleaned them after every job. Most of them hadn't been used, they were more like decoration than anything."

"It's a possibility."

"I wouldn't put it past him." She sipped her coffee and noticed her notification light on her phone was blinking. "Excuse me." She grabbed it and stepped toward the corner, playing the message that was left. It was from Daryl, only it was extremely distorted. She wasn't sure it was done purposefully or not, but she would need Rosita to make sense of it. Or she would need to use her other phone. That's what this could have meant.

"Something wrong?" Tobin looked over the file she'd left open.

"No, nothing. I just need to use the bathroom. I think one of my wounds reopened. Just give me on minute."

In the safety of the bathroom, Carol sent a message to the burner phone Rosita had purchased for him from the burner phone Daryl had given Carol. There were no new messages on her extra phone, so she would need Rosita. They would meet later. Carol would need a bit more time to prepare her statement to Michonne on Rosita. She had thought a lot about what to say, and honesty was the only thing that would work. Carol was going to be honest with Michonne, and she could only hope that was enough to save Rosita. She wasn't entirely sure Michonne bought her story about Merle and Daryl, but she had to keep calm and play as though those were the actual events. Carol could sell stories quite well, having polished her skills over the years with Sam and when she was younger and she had to talk her way out of trouble. Most children read stories, but Carol told them—to comfort herself and to escape sticky situations.

Slipping the burner phone back into her boot, she exited the stall and returned to her desk. She spoke with Tobin, her eyes on Michonne's closed blinds, and she worried how well or how poorly Caesar was doing. He was good when it came to bullets flying and talking a criminal down, but when it came to lying for a friend, he didn't do so well. He had tells when he was lying, and Michonne would pick up on them. She was a intimidating woman, and lying to her wasn't simple, especially when you're friends with her, but Carol owed Rosita this one last favor. Carol would just do it her way. After spending the past few days playing by other peoples' rules, she had to do this her way. It was the only way she could see that would actually help Rosita.

"I'd like to come by tonight," Tobin stated.

"Come by?" Her eyes narrowed. "My apartment?"

"Yes. You have copies of his cases, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

He nodded. "I'd like to review them with you. Two sets of eyes work better than one any day. And mine will be fresh."

"I'd like that." She smiled. "Why don't you come by around seven?"

"All right."

Carol looked over his shoulder as Michonne and Caesar finished up, and she was stunned to see how calm and collected Caesar looked. She folded her arms and followed him when he passed her, and she asked him how he was, handing him the file Tobin had been flicking through.

"Have we learned anything new?" Caesar accepted the file.

"Just that sniper may have burned off his fingertips."

"Hmm." He smirked. "Just when I thought the asshole couldn't get any creepier."

"Are you okay, Caesar?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine. You seem..." She shook her head. "Never mind. I need to speak to Denise. Do you want to come with me?"

"Take Tobin. I have some phone calls to make."

She nodded and walked away, glancing back only once. She shook the feeling inside of her and headed down to the morgue to see Denise with Tobin. The file she needed, she didn't want sent to her. She wanted the hard copy, or at least a copy of the hard copy. She hadn't touched that file, not once, but she had no choice now. They had to look at all his victims, including Sam and Rick.

– – –

"How are you holding up?" Carol picked at her dinner, leaning against the counter. She hadn't had much of an appetite since she started reading over the files. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to swallow coffee in the morning. Her stomach was a massive knot.

"I'm okay. Carl...has a lot of questions about it, but he's okay."

"You sound tired."

"That's because I haven't been sleeping."

"Judy?"

"No. No, she sleeps like a horse." She released a brief chuckle. "Just like her dad."

"It's hard on all of us. This case...has been with us for years."

"Are you sleeping?"

"I have brief moments of blacking out and waking up about ten minutes later. Does that count?"

"Sounds better than me."

"How is Shane taking this? Rick was his best friend, and he always regretted not being there for Sam more."

"He's holding it together for the kids and for me, but I know he's not doing much better than me or you. He showers longer than he normally does, and the bags under his eyes can own property." She rubbed the back of her neck. "It feels like years have passed instead of weeks."

"It feels like that for me too. I keep...dreaming about that day. I don't know if I'm trying to find something new or if my mind is just torturing me."

"If you need to, you can come down and spend some time with us. Carl's been asking if we can go visit Rick's grave. Sam's too." She fell silent for a moment. "I think he'd liked to see you. He'd been asking about Sam, and...he should hear about him from you. Besides I think their flowers need freshening."

Carol drew in a quick, deep breath. "I don't know if I can."

"I think it'd do you some good. You haven't been out there since the funeral. I don't want to pressure you. Come only if you want. We're going this Tuesday at noon. You can join us there or at the house. That's if you can make it."

"I'll try, but I can't promise anything."

"Well, I have to go. Judith's fussing. Um, I hope to see you soon. I love you, Carol, and I'm here for you."

"Thank you. I love you too, Lori. And I'm just a phone call away. Bye." She set the phone on the counter and picked up her plate to put it in the microwave.

"I'll take that." Caesar caught the plate. "I'm starving."

"How can you eat?"

"I have to keep my strength up. If I want to catch this motherfucker, I need to be agile and ready to pounce. And don't you know that I've always been a stress eater?" She smirked. "You should try to eat something. Toast, even."

"I'm not hungry." She lowered her hands from the plate and found a seat in the living room, looking over the information Rosita had sent in. She rubbed the back of her neck. "Daryl hasn't checked in."

"I'm sure he's fine." Caesar sat across her on the floor and continued to look over the file of Betsy Johnson.

"It's been three weeks, Caesar. He was supposed to check in the day after he went to those men. It's three weeks later and not a peep. If Abraham knows anything, he won't tell me. Oscar and Axel only check in with Rosita, and Ryan didn't come down to see me like he'd planned to two weeks ago."

"Carol, calm down. Ryan had to finish a few things at work, and Mika had to get her tonsils taken out. You know how he gets. He turns into a mother hen and practically suffocates them into being better. He's been that way for a long time." He then added, "He'll call you soon, I'm sure of it."

She groaned. "Yeah, you're right. I'm just...worried about everybody I have a connection to." She picked up her laptop. "Tobin will be by in an hour. He's trying to get information out of Phillip."

"Tobin's good. He may get something out of him."

"Let's hope he does."

"Tobin's been by a lot lately," Caesar mentioned.

"Yeah, he... He feels bad." She shifted in the armchair, scrolling through the pictures she'd scanned from the case files.

"I don't think that's why he keeps coming around."

She moved her eyes from the screen to his face. "How old are you again?"

"It's just an observation."

"An incorrect one." She closed her computer and leaned toward him. "He worked with me on the sniper's case—the very first one assigned to me. It was a long time ago, but I'm pretty sure Tobin had a chance to kill him. We were in a parking garage, and he was...hunting. I don't know who for, but Tobin didn't take the shot. He feels that it was his fault I lost Sam and Rick. That's it."

"Carol, that might be some of the reason but not the entire reason. He's trying to impress you."

"Why do you say that like it's impossible to do?" She glared.

"Because it is."

She rolled her eyes. "I have to call Michonne. You can continue to speak nonsense, all I ask is that you do it softly."

"He likes you," Caesar teased. "His threatening Phillip for answers is like bringing you flowers!"

"I hate flowers," she called back.

He chuckled and returned to his work. Carol held her home phone close to her chest, looking back down the hall where Caesar was, and she thought about what he said for a moment. She then pushed it out of her mind and called Michonne, because even if he did have feelings for her, she had none for him. At this point in her life and in the investigation she couldn't afford to have feelings for anybody.

– – –

"So, we can connect all of these people to him?" Michonne ran her eyes over the many faces taped to the white board Tobin had brought in.

"Yes." Carol handed her the report Caesar had handed her from Tobin. "Almost every rifle we found can be linked to all of these people."

"Almost?" She looked over the file.

"We have ten women who were killed with the same weapon, but that weapon wasn't found in the sniper's armory. We can only speculate, but my money is on him carrying it on his person right now."

"It's good work." Michonne offered her a small smile. "And I hear Tobin is getting somewhere with Phillip."

"Yes, I've heard so too. He should be in soon to report." She hugged her arms.

"Why don't you take a break?" Michonne suggested. "Have lunch and then come back. It'll do you good."

"I'm not hungry."

"You've barely eaten in weeks. Caesar's gained weight from all the food you've given to him. And if you lose anymore weight, you'll blow away on the breeze."

Carol chuckled and started to reject her once more when she saw Ryan and Mika entering the station from the corner of her eye. "On second thought, you're right. I do need to eat something. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"Take half an hour."

"Okay." She met Ryan halfway and embraced both him and Mika as a greeting. "What brings you here? And why didn't you call first? We could have met at my place."

"I need to talk to you." He was pale, and his tone was solemn. "In private."

"There's a cafe down the street. It's closed today, but I know the owner. He'll let us talk there."

Five minutes later, they were sitting by the window at Carol's favorite cafe, the owner having to open as people had noticed the lights on. Carol apologized, but he said he was fine. He liked having the distraction today. He was a sweet man, but Carol could tell he had a lot of demons. Sadly not ones she could chase down.

"You come here a lot." He noted the conversation Carol had with the owner.

"I probably keep him in business." She smiled to herself, brushing her thumb over the Jones Cafe logo.

He chuckled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He took a drink of his coffee and swallowed hard. Mika was playing with a doll she'd brought with her. She was a table behind them, right in Ryan's view, and Carol could hear her every whisper. She always became hyper aware when children were involved, and Mika was dear to her. She kept her guard up, although she didn't feel him around. She felt well enough to sit by the window and enjoy coffee with a friend.

"What did you want to talk about?" She locked eyes with him.

"I was supposed to come down two weeks ago. I'm sorry I couldn't make it. Work—"

"It's okay, Ryan. I understand that you have other things in your life. You let me know when you could, and it's fine. There's no harm done." She set her hand over his, her thumb brushed across his knuckles, and she smiled at him, small but warm. "You don't need to feel guilty."

He nodded. "I have a request. It's...pretty big."

"What is it? I'll do what I can to help."

"I need you to adopt Mika."

Her hand fell to the table, her mouth opened enough for small uhs to escape, and her brows met as her eyes narrowed. She shook her head, lifting her hand to ask him to wait so she could get a handle on his request. "W—why would you need me to adopt your daughter?" She spoke low, not wanting Mika to overhear.

"I can't be her father right now."

"What the hell does that mean?" she hissed.

"I want to be her father," he corrected. "I want to be in her life and be with her, but I can't."

"Why not, Ryan?"

"Lizzie's condition...is worse than I thought."

"What does that mean exactly? I need more answers than you're giving me."

"When you met her, I know you felt it. I saw it in your eyes. You couldn't mask it in time." He searched her eyes. "You weren't wrong, Carol."

"She's just a little girl."

"That's what I thought. That was my excuse for years." Tears sprung up in his eyes weary eyes. "Then I found the neighbor's dog...in our backyard. She had...taken one of the kitchen knives. It'd been missing for weeks. I thought I accidentally threw it away..."

"What did she do to the dog?" Carol whispered.

"Dissected it. Her wording was, "I was just having fun"." He covered his mouth with his hand, a choked sob escaping, and his shoulders shook. Carol grasped his other hand, and he managed to regain himself. "There were other animals buried back there, Carol."

"God, Ryan, I am so sorry."

"I need to do all I can to help her," he continued. "And I don't want Mika to feel left out. I can't be there for both of them the way I need to be. It breaks my heart to even ask you this, but you're the only person I trust with her. I know you will raise her like your own and love her unconditionally. She needs that."

"Ryan, I love you and your girls like family, but I can't."

"Please. I need you, Carol. Mika needs you."

She gazed over her shoulder at Mika. The young girl was lost in playing, but Carol could see the difference four weeks had brought. She wasn't as happy as she had been when she and Ryan and her sister came to visit her for the first time in years. She seemed to be more distracting herself than playing. Lord only knows what that child endured. She understood now why Ryan didn't leave them alone, and for him to even consider this, Lizzie must have done something to her. Or was about to do something to her.

Nevertheless Carol couldn't take in that sweet little angel. She had lost one child to the sniper, and she wouldn't lost Mika to him. She was closer to finding him, but with how slick that bastard was that didn't mean much. If he saw Mika around, he would kill her without blinking. Carol couldn't let that happen. Not one more person would lose their life to him. But if she didn't do this, Mika still might meet a bitter fate.

Mika lifted her head when she felt eyes on her, and she smiled widely at her father and Carol, waving and making her doll wave as well.

Carol weakly waved back and turned her gaze to Ryan. "I'm not agreeing, but how would this work?"

"I have her bags in the car, and I'll help her settle in. I've already filled out the proper paper work, and she's in the schooling system down here. All you have to do is sign." He cleared his throat. "I'll call her nightly, to check in and let her know how much I love her and how this...is for the best."

"Can't I just watch her? I don't have to adopt her."

"I don't know how long this will be. And I don't want her to miss out on anything, because I couldn't sign a paper in time or meet the principal or whatever her legal guardian needed to do. Or if she needs medical attention." He gripped his cup and shook his head. "I wouldn't do this unless I had no choice, Carol. She's my...my little girl, and it kills me that it has to come to this, but...as her father, I have to do what is right for her. This is the most difficult decision of my life in regards to Mika, but it is right."

She sighed. "You're adamant."

"I am."

"What about grandparents? Or your siblings?"

"My parents are dead, and so are Christa's. My brother can't even hold down a job." He exhaled. "Christa was an only child."

She closed her eyes. "Shit."

"You're the only person I can turn to."

"Caesar."

"He has Keira and Andrea. They would be good to her. Hell, they'd be great to her, but their child would always come first. With you, I know Mika will be first no matter what happens, and she needs that love and attention right now. I know you work a lot, and she understands why, but knowing you're coming home and you'll be there when she wakes up...will be everything. She wakes to a babysitter with me. A babysitter who put her in the hospital, because she didn't listen to me when I said she couldn't eat kiwi."

She leaned back in her chair. "I'll need time to think about this."

He nodded. "We'll be in town until ten."

"What if I say no? What'll you do?"

"What I can, but...she'll suffer for it." He swallowed hard. "I know Mika won't think badly of me. She's a good kid. She'll know I'm doing all I can for her and her sister. She'll know this isn't some means of getting rid of her. She won't hate me this way, but if I raise her while trying to help Lizzie, while putting all of my money and time into Lizzie, she may grow to resent me. To feel neglected and isolated. She'll change completely from the person she's meant to become, and I don't want that to happen. That's why I need you to do this. For her and her future. Please, please, think about it."

"I have to get back to work, but I'll call you with my final decision."

"Please, consider it."

"Okay." She ordered a coffee to go.

"Carol?" Mika hugged her doll to her chest.

"Yeah?" She bent down to be at eye level.

"Could I have a cookie?" She pointed to one in the case.

She smiled. "Peanut butter or chocolate chip?"

"Peanut butter." She smiled back.

"My favorite," Carol whispered like it was a secret.

"Mine too," Mika muttered back.

She straightened when Jenny handed her the cup. "Hey, could I have two peanut butter cookies, please?"

"Of course." She placed two on a plate and handed it to Carol.

"Thank you. Add it to my tab. I'll be in to pay it tomorrow."

She nodded. "Have a nice day."

"You too." She gave the plate to Mika. "I have to get back to work, but I'll talk to you later."

She nodded. "Be careful."

She rubbed her arm and left the cafe, giving a nod to Ryan as goodbye.

––

Williams left the cafe with a coffee, leaving behind the man and child she had entered with, and it was interesting. Their conversation wasn't one you hear every day. Or read, as he didn't dare get near them. He made sure to keep his distance, because if he could feel her, she could feel him.

The child wasn't anything he wanted to kill. Sure, she was sweet and near to Williams' heart, but she wasn't the child he wanted. He would leave her be, but her father. Now that was the part that piqued his interest. He was willing to give up a child to protect her, very like Williams had done. He didn't have the same feel as Williams, but it would be satisfying. His death would bring more grief to her than the child's death. He had backed her into a corner she didn't want to be in, and he admired that. Perhaps all she needed was a little push.

– – –

"Where the hell is Tobin?" Carol nibbled on a piece of garlic bread from Caesar's dinner. "He was supposed to be here hours ago."

"It's a long drive."

"Or maybe the sniper knows we're onto him." Carol wiped her fingertips on a napkin. "Maybe he took out Tobin."

"He just sent Michonne an update. Calm down. Eat. You're having hunger induced paranoia."

"I am not." She sat beside him. "Andrea made that for you."

"That didn't stop you from eating the garlic bread." He slid the plastic container over to her. "I'm not hungry."

"Thanks."

"So, I heard Ryan stopped by."

"Him and Mika." She began to eat his dinner, not wanting to talk about what happened.

"Why?"

She shrugged.

He pursed his lips. "So Ryan didn't ask you to adopt Mika, because Lizzie was exhibiting signs of—"

"How?" she interrupted him.

"Ryan called me."

"Of course he did."

"What are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know."

"I'd say yes."

"It's not that simple, Caesar."

"Actually it is, Carol." He moved so he could meet her eyes. "You cannot keep putting your life on hold, because of the sniper. That's what he wants—to break you and leave you utterly alone. You can't let him do this. I know you're terrified, but we are going to find him. The best way to unravel him is to show him he has no power over you. All you've done is shown him how much power he has."

"You don't know—"

"I know you love Mika and Lizzie and Sophia. I know you love them all so much that you have to push them away to keep them safe. It kills you to even see them." His jaw clenched. "Carol, you need to take this child in. Not to get back at the sniper, no. No, you need to do this for you. And for her. You know more than anyone how much this grieves Ryan, and he chose you. You know exactly why, and to say no...to take away the last bit of hope he has left because of your fear is bullshit."

"My fear has a name—and a rifle."

"No, that's your excuse. Your fear is letting people in. You've shut the world out since Sam died. Lucky for me, I made it in before Sam, but Keira? Mika? Daryl? You would die for them, but you wouldn't dare let them close to you."

Her eyes burned into his, but she said nothing. Her blue eyes were shiny under the lights in the lounge, reddening at tears that didn't fall.

"And you'll turn him down not because you're scared of loving another child as much as you loved Sam, but because you'll have to know everything about them, and they'll want to know everything about you and your past. You'll have to open yourself up to all of that pain, and you don't want to. Sure, you can talk about Sam's death, but can you talk about him? Can you tell me about him right now over lunch?"

"Stop."

"What's his favorite color? He had two, but I can never remember which one he liked just a tad more."

"Caesar—"

"It was blue, right? Like the race cars he used to have. He loved those. Rick gave them to him on his fifth birthday, and they made it all the way—"

"Would you just stop?" She shot up, her chair knocking over from the swift moment, and she glowered at the man beside her. "What's the point of this?"

"You know the point of this. You just refuse to see it." He left the lounge, shaking his head.

She blinked hard, wrapping her arms around herself, and she scoffed.

– – –

Caesar unlocked the door and found Keira and Andrea curled up on the sofa, the cat nestled on Andrea's thigh, and he smiled. He closed the door and tossed his jacket and keys into the armchair. He removed his shoes and crept over to the couch, kneeling down beside them. He set a hand on Andrea's cheek and brushed a curl from her face to rouse her.

Her eyes opened. "You're just getting in?"

He nodded.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly two."

"In the morning?"

"Yeah. We...ran into a snag." He set his hand on Keira's side. "Let me put her to bed then we can talk."

She carefully removed her arm, Caesar scooped his daughter up and carried her to her bedroom, and Andrea moved the cat to the floor. She checked her watch and rubbed at the corner of her eye. She could sleep for the next six years and still not feel rested. She hoped when this case was put to bed, she would be able to sleep well. She grabbed the blanket from the couch and headed upstairs to their bedroom, where Caesar was undressing.

"What snag did you run into?"

"Phillip Blake got into a fight in the yard." He sat on the bed. "Lost an eye and has internal injuries."

"Christ, how did that happen?"

"I don't know. It was like all hell broke loose. It's just odd that it only broke after Tobin questioned him, so either he had this done to himself or the sniper doesn't like his loose lips."

"Will he survive?"

"Yes."

"Good. That bastard doesn't deserve to die an easy death."

He grasped the blanket she was holding and pulled her to him, encircling her waist. "It wouldn't have been an easy death, but I know what you meant."

"How's Carol?"

"Not talking to me. I—I went to far today, and I need to apologize. I'll do it in the morning. I'm too exhausted now, and I don't think she'd pick up the phone."

She nodded. "Let's get to bed." She kissed the top of his head. "It'll be better in the morning."

"I hope."

– – –

It was nine-forty-five. The darkness of night settled into the city and curled into Carol's apartment, the many boxes neatly stacked against the wall, her laptop resting on her coffee table, and the scent of coffee and soap still lingered in the air from her brisk return to shower and grab some deathly potent coffee.

Her bed was made and hadn't been slept in for days, the alarm clock untouched as she didn't need it to wake her, and her closet door was ajar; the hanger that held her blouse was swaying back and forth like a young mother rocking her newborn to sleep. The TV was cold and hadn't been used in too long, and her jewelry box was gathering dust. She'd worn the same earrings and necklace for the past three weeks.

The plain calendar on her fridge hadn't been turned to the new month, all of her appointments and birthday reminders inked in and crossed out. The space beside it holding a picture of her and Sam. It was an old picture, taken days before his death; however, it was new to the fridge. It had been resting in a paper folder with many others like it for years, but only today made its appearance. The healing process was beginning, the old wounds now able to lick in air and scab over. One step closer to being another scar to her collection.

A reminder note on her counter with two lines: Call Lori and Call the landlord. She would be accompanying the Grimes-Walsh family to the graves of Rick Grimes and Sam Williams. She would bring a toy, but never flowers. She wasn't fond of flowers. They reminded her, too, of funerals. And she would need to call the landlord about rent. She rarely fell behind on such things. This case was taxing, clotting her brain and erasing everything that didn't involve the sniper.

––

Carol snuffled and cleared her throat, calling Ryan to give him her answer. She paced the lounge, her phone ringing, and she stopped when he picked up. "Ryan, hey. It's Carol."

"It's good to hear from you." He hesitated. "You've made up your mind then?"

"Yes. I have."

"Okay."

She put her hand her on her hip, blowing out a sigh to try and calm herself. "Where and when do you want to meet so I can sign the papers?"

Happy holidays! I hope you all have an amazing holiday, and may the new year bring great things to you!