A/N: What happened at the Greene farm from the perspectives of Otis, Maggie and Hershel.

Generation

Otis

The deer paused in a clearing. As Otis sighted on it he caught movement to the left, a figure swaying slightly with one arm outstretched. He should have been more careful and not assumed it was a walker but at the time he wanted to drop the deer with his first shot before it got startled and then the walker with the second before it had a chance to ruin the meat. He knew a bullet wouldn't stop the walker unless it was a head shot but it would slow him until Otis could get closer. Venison would be welcome at the table and the entrails would be fed to the guests in the barn. The walker would join them unless he was too far gone. Otis had stopped putting every walker he came across into the barn.

When Hershel Greene's wife and son died and Hershel decided they should be kept safe in the barn until a cure was found, Otis went along with it because he had a great respect for Hershel and it almost made sense at the time. They were freshly turned and still seemed so human, just sick or crazy, and you took care of people like that. But Hershel and the others hadn't been back to the barn to see the decomposition that was happening. Maybe there would be a cure someday but it wouldn't save these people. Otis had known for awhile that he was going to have to raise this issue with Hershel, take him to the barn to see for himself what they had become. But there was no hurry. The farm was isolated and no strangers had come among them.

Until Otis made his shots and discovered the second one had almost killed a little boy.

Maggie

It was touch and go at first but Daddy was almost as good with two-legged patients as he was with four so Carl Grimes would be all right. With the crisis past Maggie realized how narrow life had become with just family and a few friends at the farm. These new people were interesting, well, one in particular. Three days weren't enough to know if she loved Glenn but she thought it could happen. He was funny, cute and awkward in a sweet way. He was rooming with Daryl Dixon which seemed like a mismatch but it probably didn't matter to either of them since they had guard duty at different times and weren't always in the room at the same time. Dixon kept to himself. There was an edgy air about him and he didn't seem comfortable in company. But who knew what he'd gone through since the outbreak. No one was the same person they'd been before.

Whatever Glenn had gone through hadn't dimmed his optimism much and it made Maggie feel hopeful, too. He was easy to talk to and if there was something missing when they kissed, it was probably due to nerves. She sensed that he wasn't very experienced with girls. Well, she wasn't very experienced either but she was interested in learning more with Glenn.

Their first time together, which turned out to be the only time, wasn't completely satisfying but that wasn't unusual. He didn't stay afterward but she didn't mind. They'd known each other such a short time and maybe they should have waited a little longer. They would slow down and get to know each other better.

But there was no time for that because the guests in the barn got out the next morning and suddenly her family was gone except Daddy. The new people put down the walkers with efficiency. It had been hard to watch but necessary because now she and her father knew that there was no saving the infected.

The new people moved on and if there was a pang at the lost opportunity with Glenn it faded when she remembered later that Glenn and Dixon had emerged together from their room late in the morning as the massacre started. They were barely dressed but with crossbows ready. They stood back to back and circled, picking off walkers with ease, covering each other and everyone else. They were a team. And maybe something more. It wasn't irrefutable evidence but Maggie was perceptive enough to put the pieces together in retrospect.

Maggie didn't notice her first missed period. She was regular but had skipped occasionally if she was stressed about something and the recent loss certainly qualified. When she realized she had missed two cycles she went to the drugstore and rummaged around for a pregnancy test. She used it in the store's bathroom and went home to tell Hershel he was going to be a grandfather.

Maggie knew her father would be supportive but worried and she expected there might be disappointment as well. But he seemed entirely pleased at the prospect of another generation for the Greene family. A child was a new beginning. Hershel wondered if they should try and locate Glenn but Maggie said no. Rick Grimes' group might have tried for Fort Benning or maybe they returned to Prentiss Produce to see if it could be reclaimed. They could be holed up 20 miles away or 200. It was too dangerous right now. Maybe later.

Hershel knew nothing of Maggie's suspicions about Glenn and Dixon and she didn't enlighten him. It didn't matter anyway. It had been stupid of both of them not to think of protection. The timing of the pregnancy wasn't great but on the whole she was happy about it. It might be her only chance for motherhood and she had always wanted to have a family someday.

The local drugstore had a small stock of formula and diapers and the general store yielded some baby clothes and other items but they went farther afield to amass a decent supply. Maggie would breastfeed of course but backup plans were crucial when considering an infant's needs.

Maggie had been brought up around animals and had no false modesty about the process but still, she wondered if it would be weird having her father deliver her baby. Hershel told her that in the throes of labor she was unlikely to care. The pregnancy progressed without problems until the week before Maggie was due. The baby had dropped in a breech position and remained there. Hershel tried to encourage movement within the womb but he also quietly made preparations.

When Maggie's water broke on a chilly morning early in January, he attempted to turn the baby but was unsuccessful so he performed the Cesarean section he had hoped wouldn't be required. It was tricky with only one pair of hands and two patients but fortunately the baby gave a healthy cry right away and could be laid aside while Maggie was attended to. Maggie woke to the sight of her father holding her baby and learned she had a son.

The Greene's didn't have a tradition of naming children after other members of the family. When Maggie suggested naming her son for his grandfather Hershel refused, saying this boy needed a name of his own.

Garry looked almost completely like Glenn except his eyes were the same color as Maggie's and in the sun his black hair had a red tinge that echoed her auburn bob. He was an easy baby who ate and slept well. Maggie had loved him before she knew he was a boy or a girl but she was unprepared for the depth of feeling when he actually arrived. He would do fine with a mother and a grandfather. Maybe they would cross paths with Glenn again. Even if he wasn't interested in her she would like him to meet his son. Surely he would want that, too.

Maggie had fully recovered from the C-section when Garry was two months old. And then their small world fell apart for good. Returning from a foraging expedition they found that one of those inexplicable herds of walkers had overrun the farm and surrounded the house. All they could do was leave, find a place to stay for a few days and hope the herd moved on. They went to the nearby town and camped out in the apartment over the bar.

The second day Maggie left Garry with Hershel and slipped across the street to the drug store. This would be the last trip because there was almost nothing left but she wanted to take anything of value that remained. There was something new this time – a walker behind the shelves at the back – and just that quickly Maggie's fate was sealed. She pulled a shelf loose and dispatched the walker and returned to the apartment in a state of shock.

Hershel

Hershel looked up when his daughter came in. The bite on her shoulder was immediately visible.

"No," he breathed, shaking his head. "No, Maggie."

Her tears were starting. "Daddy, it's up to you now. You're all Garry has left."

More walkers were wandering into town. They headed out in the SUV. Maggie watched Garry in his car seat, drinking in the sight. She could not risk touching her son again. She wouldn't see him grow up and after all that had happened it seemed to her an inevitable conclusion. She glanced at her father and was afraid. She knew he had married late but Daddy had never seemed old until now. She had to trust that he would be there until Garry was old enough to take care of himself. Or at least until he found other survivors.

Hershel drove until Maggie felt the fever bloom. He found a spot with a stream nearby and pulled over.

"You'll know when it's time," Maggie told her father. "Don't wait too long."

When Maggie lost consciousness the next day, Hershel fired a bullet into his daughter's brain. The sound might bring walkers so he was going to bury her and leave with Garry, go back and see if the farm was safe again. But there was one more trial to be endured. As he rolled Maggie into the tarp he felt a pain in his chest that wasn't grief. It radiated down his left arm in the classic symptom of a heart attack. Garry was in his car seat in the SUV, safe for the moment.

Hershel rested and prayed and he did not die. He was weak and his vision blurred in and out. He couldn't drive in this condition and there wasn't much gas left anyway. Here at least there was water. He had some boiled bottled water for drinking and for Garry's formula but it wouldn't last long. He took care of Garry the rest of that day and they slept in the SUV that night.

Hershel was exhausted the next morning and knew he was failing. He managed to get them settled under a tree with the baby bag beside him. He drifted in and out, feeding and changing Garry, drinking a little water but no longer able to eat anything. He knew he couldn't last much longer and it was unlikely that anyone would come by this lonely stretch of road in time.

What would become of Garry? Would it be better for them to go together, Garry held in loving arms? Hershel turned his grandson to his chest and held him close. After a few seconds Garry squirmed and Hershel turned him over again, unable to give him a quick death even if that would be more merciful than the slow painful one that awaited him.

It was late afternoon when Hershel felt a hand on his shoulder and feared that he and his grandson would die together after all, victims of a walker. The gun was beside him, he might kill this one but there were only a few bullets left. Should he save the last two for Garry and himself?

But the hand wasn't clawing at him, it was warm and solid and squeezed his shoulder gently.

"Hershel Greene," a voice said, and Hershel knew that the Lord had not forsaken him.

"Thank God. Who is it?" he asked, struggling to open his eyes.

"Daryl Dixon. With Rick Grimes' group at your farm last year."

Hershel had thought Dixon was a dangerous man the year before but he appeared now as a savior. And when Hershel learned that Garry's father was alive and close by he knew his prayers had truly been answered. He gave Dixon his journal, his last will and testament and Garry's birth certificate.

Hershel watched as Dixon fed Garry. The man was obviously unaccustomed to such a task but he did fine.

"Where are you settled?"

"Five miles as the crow flies. A place called Stonehill Convalescent Facility."

"I've heard of it. Did Lori Grimes have her baby?"

"Yeah, Judy will be a year in May. The kids can grow up together."

When Dixon changed Garry his small penis sprayed the man and he jerked back. For a moment Hershel was afraid Dixon would be angry with the baby. But Garry was cooing and waving his arms and legs and Dixon chuckled as he fastened the diaper. His fingers were clumsy but he kept at it until the diaper was secure. He wrapped Garry in a blanket and handed him back to his grandfather.

Hershel gave a brief account of the last few days and then felt his strength abruptly drain. "Don't let me drop him," he whispered. Dixon put an arm under the baby and a hand on Hershel's shoulder.

The end, after all, would be peaceful, Hershel thought. He had had a long life with his share of regrets: the discord with his father when he was a young man, the drinking he had finally conquered. He had married, had children, raised a family, tended his farm and the community of animals surrounding it.

The past year and a half had seen that life destroyed and the world he knew changed forever and yet there had also been the joy of a grandson and now the comfort of knowing that Garry would be cared for by his father. Maggie was gone but other women would mother her son and other men would help keep him safe.

With his final breath Hershel Greene was content to give his soul to God and his grandson to Daryl Dixon.