AN: So we have a short time jump from the last chapter as we move on to the next little piece of our story. As always, I thank you all for reading and reviewing. I'm glad to see that so many people are enjoying the story and I hope you continue to enjoy it!
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The next few weeks passed fairly quickly for everyone. Winter was rolling in and there was no doubt about that. Things had to be done in order for them to even dream of surviving the winter. They'd been slowly progressing through the prison, cleaning more and more of the area, with still so much more to be cleaned up, which meant more space, but it also meant that there were more walls to patch, more holes in the roof that needed patches, and more Walkers to be carried out and burned.
In addition, Maggie and Glenn had been frequently leaving the prison with a delivery truck that they'd stolen from a nearby town in search of supplies. If the winter was harsh and brought snow, they needed to be as well stocked as they could be, and with many of the neighboring areas being well scavenged by what were apparently several passing groups, it was necessary for them to go farther and farther out to bring back things they were going to need.
Alice had been an advocate for their return to the Governor's old lair in search of whatever they could scavenge from there, and there were repeated conversations about organizing a team to go in there and clear out as much as possible, though it hadn't actually been organized as of yet. Every day that it got colder, though, the conversation seemed to be taken more seriously by Rick and Daryl, under the insistence that rounding up the generators there could provide some well needed heat within the damp walls of the prison as the harsher climate began to take over.
Carol, for one, was beginning to feel better and better as time wore on. Though the memory of the Governor's torture chambers, or at least what she had of it, still loomed in her mind, she was putting it farther and farther out of her working memory. She'd begun to help with meals and laundry again, although not quite with the same enthusiasm that she once had, but she was working toward it.
Even Beth seemed to be doing a little better. She wasn't interacting with the group much at all, but she had formed an attachment to Melodye, and she would allow the woman to accompany her, at times, outside of the prison walls to walk around the yard. Carol had tried to talk to her once, but Beth had regarded her pretty much as she had the others. She wasn't interested in speaking to her much beyond the repeated insistence that she was fine and wanted to be left alone. Hershel and Maggie seemed to be the only two besides Melodye that could push through her walls most of the time.
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Carol rolled over and stretched. She knew that she was getting up late. Daryl had crawled over her much earlier, kissing her cheek and telling her that he was going hunting and to bring back rabbits. He'd set rabbit traps a few days before and Tyreese had built some hutches inside one of the cell blocks that they'd cleaned out. The goal was to keep the rabbits they caught as warm as possible in order to try to keep them breeding through the winter for meat. So far they had about eight rabbits, but Daryl was hopeful to get more. Game was extremely scarce these days, and everyone was beginning to fear that winter might be far leaner than they had anticipated.
Now she was becoming aware that it was her time to get up. She was sure that she'd missed breakfast already, and she no longer felt right leaving the others with all the work that had to be done. She sighed and reluctantly pushed back the covers on the bed. The chill in the cell hit her skin and goose bumps covered her.
Carol got out of the bed and pulled her nightgown over her head, dropping it on the bunk. She burrowed sleepily in her pile of clothes and came up with a pair of black elastic pants that Michonne had brought her. They were comfortable enough to be pajama pants, and she wore them fairly often, trying to make sure that they made it into the laundry as regularly as possible.
As Carol pulled the pants up, wondering which shirt she was going to pull on, her hand ghosted over her stomach. She stopped a moment and looked down, a little surprised. She rubbed her hand over her belly again.
She was showing.
Carol prodded at the small bulge with two of her fingers. It wasn't much, but it was there. What bothered her, though, was that she could have sworn it wasn't there the day before. She felt a little panicky for a moment. How could she have not noticed this? She suddenly wished there was a mirror in the cell, but there wasn't. She quickly dug into her pile of clothes and came up with one of the long sweaters. She tugged it on and looked down again. She could still see the bulge. The last time she wore this sweater she knew it hadn't been there. She peeled the sweater off again and pulled out a different one. It was oversized and much larger. The bulge was hardly noticeable except for just at one spot where the sweater hugged a little against it.
Carol ran her fingers through her hair, not quite sure why she felt as panicked as she did. She tugged at the bottom of the sweater, stretching it out so that it stopped hugging in that spot. She slipped her shoes on and walked in a small circle in the cell, trying to remember what it was that she was going to do before she noticed this anomaly with her body.
Finally she left the cell and started outside.
In the courtyard she found Alice and Karen sitting around the three large tubs that they used for laundry, a system that she had perfected to make it as efficient as possible. One tub was used for soaking the clothes, the second was where they were washed, and the third was used for rinsing them as clean as they could possibly get. Alice was sitting on a flipped over milk crate stirring the soaking clothes with a boat paddle. Karen was rinsing some clothes that would later be wrung out and hung up to dry.
Carol quickly crossed the yard to her, and Alice noticed her approach.
"Good mornin' mama!" Alice called out. "If you've got any desire whatsoever to hold onto your breakfast, don't come over here. It smells like dirty, sweaty, ass soup over here."
Carol ignored her. She'd been blessed through this pregnancy without little to no morning sickness, something she certainly couldn't say about when she'd been pregnant with Sophia. With the variety of smells around them, though, she was grateful for it or she might have spent most of her time vomiting.
"I need to talk to you," Carol called as she came closer.
"Sure, what's up?" Alice asked, continuing to stir at her dirty laundry stew.
Carol cast a glance at Karen and unconsciously tugged again at the sweater.
"I just need to talk to you," she said. "Alone…please?" She begged.
Karen cast her eyes over toward them, but didn't say anything. She was likely annoyed that Carol was late getting out there when she knew that laundry day went much smoother when there was at least three people involved.
Alice glanced at Carol and let go of the paddle which continued spinning in the water for a moment before coming to rest against the side. She stood up and wiped her hands on her pants, looking a little concerned.
"Sure, Carol." She said, walking toward her. "What's wrong? You feeling OK?"
"Yes and no," Carol said, leaning in toward Alice. Alice pulled away a moment, her concern visibly growing.
"Just tell me what's wrong. Is it the baby?" Alice asked.
"I feel fine…at least I think everything's fine, but I'm not sure," Carol said. She tugged at the sweater again and glanced in the direction of Karen to make sure that the woman wasn't paying them any attention. Though she'd left Carol alone for the most part, she did like to make snide comments from time to time that made Carol uncomfortable, and she didn't want to give her any more fuel for that fire.
"OK, come on, let's go back to your cell, you can tell me about it on the way there," Alice said.
Carol nodded and they started into the prison. Carol led Alice right into her cell and stood there for a moment.
"OK, what's wrong with baby Beans?" Alice asked.
"I don't know," Carol said. "I don't know if anything is wrong. I think I'm going crazy."
Alice looked at her, confused for a moment.
"That's really more Mel's area than mine," she said.
Carol sighed. She pulled up the sweater and pushed down the pant, standing there exposing her belly to Alice. Alice looked at her again.
"What the hell is wrong, Carol? You gotta use your words or something," Alice said finally.
"That!" Carol said, gesturing at the bump. "That's what's wrong!"
"OK, maybe I should go get Mel," Alice said. "You do realize you're pregnant, right? I mean you didn't bump your head or anything did you?"
Carol sighed.
"I swear I don't think it was there yesterday," Carol said.
Alice smiled.
"Your belly popped, it's fine," she said. Alice prodded gently at Carol's belly.
"It popped?" Carol asked. She tried to remember back to when she'd been pregnant with Sophia, but it seemed so long ago right now. She thought she remembered gradually starting to show, not feeling like she'd gone to bed with no hint of a baby and woken up feeling huge. "Is it supposed to do this? I don't remember this…"
Alice chuckled. She ran her hand through her hair and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"It's perfectly fine. You know, one thing all this physical activity has given us these days are muscles that are a lot stronger than they used to be. I'd bet you didn't have the same stomach muscles when you were pregnant before that you've got now. Am I right?" Alice asked.
"No, I don't know…" Carol said. "I guess I didn't." She did know that she was physically stronger now than she had once been, and before this morning she had considered herself at least a little thinner than she'd been before, but she hadn't paid it all that much attention until now.
"So the stronger your stomach muscles are, the longer they typically hold the baby back," Alice said. "Most of the time it means you take longer to start showing, but then when you do start showing it means that your muscles just sort of gave up, like 'we're not even fuckin' dealing with this shit anymore', and then pop you've got a baby belly."
"So this is just it? This is just permanent?" Carol asked. She had accepted that she was pregnant, at least to some degree, but seeing this was a shock, to say the least. It somewhat brought into reality what she'd kept tucked in the back of her mind.
Alice chuckled again.
"Permanent? No. If my calendar is right, though you're at least fifteen weeks along. It was about time for baby Beans to think about announcing its presence. From here it's full steam ahead."
Carol pulled her pants back up and dropped the sweater, tugging it again, though it now retained very little of its original shape.
"Stop tugging at your clothes," Alice said suddenly. "It's cute, leave it alone." She stood up then. "Anything else you need, or was this your crisis for the morning.
Carol wrung her hands, catching herself moving to tug at the sweater again.
"No, nothing else," she said.
"Then come on out when you're ready. We could use some help with the laundry, and enjoy your bump. It means the baby's healthy and growing, and just wait 'til Papa Bear pays attention to it. If it just popped last night he's going to be just as surprised as you are."
Alice ducked out of the cell then and Carol listened to her disappear, whistling in the hallway. Carol pulled her sweater back up and prodded again at her belly.
"So there you are, huh?" She said. "You didn't want to give me any warning? I guess you didn't owe me that since you didn't make me sick, right?" She sighed and pulled the sweater back down, starting out of the cell again to go and join those that were washing clothes.
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Carol felt like she waited all day for Daryl to get back from hunting. She'd helped do all the laundry, keeping mostly to herself. Alice hadn't said anything else about her problem, and it seemed that no one had paid it any attention, or if they had, they hadn't commented on it. She figured, though, that she'd probably stretched the sweater to such a point that it would be difficult for anyone to notice the belly that she was trying to get used to.
When Daryl had finally come through the fences, he had live rabbits that needed to be put away and he had some squirrels that needed to be cleaned if they were going to make it into the stew for dinner. Carol had desperately wanted to talk to him, but he was occupied with that, as he normally would be. She'd kept busy helping the others and casting glances at him to see when he'd be free.
She hadn't had a single moment with Daryl until dinner rolled around. She cheated and passed through the line first instead of staying to hand out stew. When Daryl came in from having helped Tyreese with one of the walls that they were preparing, Carol waved him over and showed him that she already had a bowl for him. He had nodded at her from across the room and made his way over quickly.
When they sat down at the table, Carol couldn't get her mind off of the baby. She felt different, suddenly, sitting there at the table. She ate her stew quietly, glancing around. She wondered if Daryl had noticed. If he had, he hadn't said anything about it. He just sat and ate his stew like he hadn't eaten in days.
"Hey loud mouth," Daryl called across the table at Alice after he'd swallowed some stew.
"What is it, asshole?" She responded.
"You reckon we could be ready ta go in two days ta get that shit ya said was at that place?" He asked.
Carol knew that Daryl avoided, like most people, saying The Governor at all costs. Now that Beth was joining them for meals, and she was so sensitive still, no one wanted to dare say anything that might set her off. They didn't watch themselves quite as closely with Carol, especially not now. She was still haunted by her experiences, that much was true, but just the mention of the Governor didn't throw her into any kind of fit.
"Don't see why not. Biggest thing we gotta do is figure out who the fuck's goin'," Alice said. "Hank said he can drive some of those huge ass trucks and he's good at driving tractors, ain't that right, Hank?"
Hank grunted from the other end of the table.
"I can get them generators loaded up, shouldn't be no problem," he said.
Daryl nodded and went back to his stew for a moment.
"Fine, tomorrow we'll figure out the details an' we'll be ready ta go the next day. We need ta get this place pretty well ready ta hole up for the winter an' them generators oughta come in handy," he said finally.
Carol didn't get involved. She considered most of the decisions to be the business end of running the group. She'd gladly do whatever they needed her to do, though they asked her to do very little these days, but she didn't get involved much in making the big decisions about what would be good for everyone. She finished her stew, scraping the bowl to get the last of it and sat there for a few minutes, waiting on Daryl.
Alice got up from the table and walked away, returning a few minutes later. She put another bowl down and slid it across the table.
"Eat up, Mama Bear," Alice said. "Shit's mostly water and baby Beans has to eat, so shut up and eat the stew."
Carol took the bowl and looked around, but no one besides Daryl was looking at her. He watched out of the corner of his eye until she picked up her spoon and started eating. The he turned his eyes back to his own bowl with a grunt.
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After dinner, Carol and Daryl stopped by the cell to get their clothes to go and take a shower. They only had a short window before it would be someone else's turn so they got down there quickly without leaving much time for conversation.
"Daryl," Carol said, taking off her shoes by the bench. "Do I look different to you?"
Daryl regarded her a second and then went back to stripping off his clothes.
"No, what'cha mean?" He asked.
"I mean physically, do I look any different to you?" Carol asked.
Daryl regarded her a second longer and then took the wash cloth and headed toward one of the shower stalls.
"Is ya s'posed ta look different?" He grunted.
"I am pregnant, you know," she said.
He looked at her again, turning on the water.
"I don't know, Carol, I reckon ya look fatter," he said. "Now ya better get'cha clothes off an' get over here or we gon' have comp'ny."
Carol was struck by his comment. She peeled her clothes off reluctantly, keeping her back to him.
"What's tha matter with ya?" Daryl asked. He was already lathering up the washcloth. Carol looked at him over her shoulder.
"You think I'm fat?" She asked.
Daryl chuckled a little.
"I said ya was gettin' fatter, good God woman, ya pregnant ain't'cha? Ya s'posed ta get fatter, I thought. Prob'ly 'cause Alice keeps feedin' ya extra all tha time," Daryl said.
Carol turned and walked over, stepping into the stall. Daryl had his head tipped back in the spray. When he straightened up and rubbed at his eyes he reached a hand out and caught her by the shoulder, pushing her under the spray.
"What's goin' on with ya today? Ya better get clean 'cause I know how ya is when someone else comes in here an' ya ain't gonna wanta wash then," he said.
"Look at me, Daryl," Carol said, ignoring the water that was rushing over her and the fact that Daryl was trying to put the washcloth in one of her hands and the bar of soap in the other. He stopped for a moment and she took both of the items, holding her hands out to the side. He regarded her for a moment. Finally he wrinkled his forehead. He took his hand and pushed at her shoulder, turning her sideways.
"When the fuck did that happen?" Daryl asked. "I didn't notice ya was gettin' that fat."
Carol felt like she might start crying. She lathered the rag in her hand as an attempt to distract herself. Daryl grabbed the shampoo off the wall beside her.
"I don't know," she said. "I think it happened last night." She heard her own voice crack. Daryl stopped a moment in lathering his hair and looked at her.
"Is ya cryin'?" He asked.
"No," Carol responded. She busied herself with washing, trying not to look at him. She didn't want to admit that she was crying. She felt ridiculous telling him that he'd hurt her feelings. She'd already determined she would intentionally put soap in her eyes if she had to hide the fact that she was bothered by his comment.
Daryl chuckled.
"Why the hell ya cryin' woman? Ain't nothin' ta cry about," Daryl said.
Carol glanced at him and noticed he was trying everything in his power to keep the suds from the shampoo from running into his eyes. She finished washing quickly and traded places with him so that he could rinse his hair while she shampooed her own.
"Do you think I'm ugly?" She asked.
Daryl finished rinsing his hair and watched her lather her own.
"Hell no I don't think ya ugly," Daryl said. "Why would I think ya ugly?"
"Because you think I'm fat," Carol responded. She swallowed, looking up at him. Daryl smiled at her and moved out of the way, pushing her back under the water.
"Rinse ya hair, Carol, 'fore ya got somethin' else ta cry about," he said. "Ya is fat, but I reckon ya s'posed ta be, ain't ya? I can't think ya ugly 'cause ya fat when it's my kid makin' ya fat."
"Can we not say 'fat' anymore, Daryl?" Carol asked, rinsing her hair. She reached around and turned the water off. Daryl hopped out of the stall and went quickly for towels.
"What's wrong with sayin' fat?" Daryl asked. He returned, holding a towel out to Carol.
"I just don't like the sound of it," Carol said.
"What'cha want me ta say, then?" Daryl asked.
"Try pregnant," Carol said.
"Ya was pregnant 'fore ya got fat," Daryl said.
Carol huffed and toweled off as quickly as she could. She pushed past Daryl and started putting on her pajamas.
"Now ya mad?" Daryl asked, coming over to get dressed.
"No," she said.
"Yeah ya is, ya always move all jumpy when ya mad. I'm sorry I called ya fat. I won't do it no more," Daryl said.
Carol stepped into her shoes again and stood before Daryl who was pulling on one of the shirts that she found him to wear back and forth from the showers to the cell at night. It was light blue, and she loved the color. She reached up, putting her hand on his chest after he pulled the shirt down.
"Promise?" She asked.
Daryl smiled and hugged her to him.
"I promise, woman, I won't call ya fat if it bugs ya so damn much," he said. Daryl pulled away and leaned down, kissing her gently on the forehead. "Ya smell good," he said.
Carol watched him as he collected up his clothes. She rubbed her hand over the bump that she still hadn't adjusted to entirely.
"You want to feel it?" She asked. Daryl eyed her, and watched her hand a minute. He started forward as though he was leaving the bathroom.
"No thanks," he said.
Carol grabbed her things up quickly and started after him. He was moving so quickly that he slammed into Michonne as she was coming through the door, knocking her backwards. She'd have hit the ground had Tyreese not been just behind her.
"Sorry," Daryl grunted, continuing on out the door.
Michonne shot Carol a look, but Carol didn't feel like explaining at the moment.
"Sorry," she said, slipping through the door that Tyreese was holding open for her. "Daryl," she called, following him down the hallway, "why don't you want to feel it?"
"Just don't wanna," he growled from in front of her.
"Well fine, that's OK," Carol said, "but do we have to run back to the cell?"
Daryl slowed his pace then and allowed her to catch up, panting a little from the jog that he'd already taken her on.
When they got back to the cell and deposited their clothes in the laundry pile, Carol raked her fingers through her hair and finished drying it as best she could with a towel. Daryl did the same to his own and tossed the towel at the dirty clothes pile, throwing himself at the bed.
Carol came over and slid onto the bed next to him, kicking off her shoes. She crawled over to him, kissing him. He returned the kiss, his hand going to her side and pushing her gently down onto the mattress, never breaking the kiss. When he finally did break it, he hovered over her a minute, running his hand inside her shirt and cupping her breast.
Carol reached in her shirt and caught his hand. He intertwined his fingers with hers for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers. She swallowed and moved his hand down, pushing it toward her belly. He hesitated a moment and then pulled his hand free, looking a little annoyed.
"Stop," he growled at her.
"Daryl, why don't you want to touch the baby?" Carol asked. He started to roll from over her now, apparently having lost interest in touching her at all.
"I just don't wanna, OK? It's weird," Daryl grunted.
Carol smiled.
"Daryl, it's not weird, it's our baby. It's your baby," she said. She sat up a little on her elbows.
"It's just weird that it's all inside ya an'…" Daryl stopped. "It's just weird, an' I don't wanna touch it," he finished.
Carol sighed. She got off the bed and lifted up the covers crawling under them. She tucked the pillow under her head and regarded Daryl who sat up and peeled off the clothes he'd worn there from the showers, leaving nothing but his boxers on.
"So does this mean you're just not going to touch me until the baby's born?" Carol asked.
Daryl crawled under the covers next to her.
"I don't wanna fight about this," he said. "It ain't you I don't wanna touch, OK? I just don't wanna touch that right now." He said, pointing at her belly, now hidden by the blanket.
"And by that you mean my stomach, right? You mean the place where your baby is growing? The same place you've had no problem touching before?" Carol asked.
Daryl looked at her, annoyed.
"Daryl, I promise you that it's not that weird," she said. "You can't even feel the baby moving right now. You probably aren't going to pay it any attention."
He looked at her and chewed his thumb, a sure sign that he was considering it, but he wasn't sold yet. She smiled.
"Please, Daryl, just put your hand there. If you don't like it, you don't have to touch it again," she said. He continued to regard her and chew at his thumb. "And if you do it, even if you don't like it, I'll let you do whatever you want to me tonight."
"Anything?" Daryl asked.
"Within reason," Carol corrected.
Daryl sighed and put his hand down under the blanket. Carol reached her own hands under and guided him until she felt him place his whole hand across the area that had surprised her so much this morning. He kept his hand there a minute, just gently laid across her. Finally, she felt him gently start to prod at her, his curiosity taking over his feelings of discomfort.
"Not too hard," she said softly.
"Does it hurt?" He asked. His brow was knitted up now. He turned and looked at her, his hand now rubbing the area.
"No," she said, "but if you go jabbing around in there it's not comfortable. Just like if I jabbed you."
Daryl smiled after a minute, his crooked smile.
"Is it as bad as you thought it would be?" She asked.
"No," he said, "but it's still weird."
Carol chuckled.
"It's still weird, you're right. Just wait, it's going to get even weirder," she said.
Daryl kissed her again. She returned the kiss, enjoying the warmth of his hand on her belly. She'd even forgiven him at the moment for calling her fat. She just felt good right this moment. She felt warm and comfortable and happy.
"I love you," she said.
"Love ya too," Daryl said. "Now how 'bout my prize?" He moved and kissed her neck and she laughed at him.
"Take your prize, Daryl," she said. "Whatever you want."