I've spent most of the morning in the bathroom. The morning sickness didn't end after my trip to Alexandria. I have the packets and vitamins to help me stay hydrated, which has helped me feel less depleted, but I'm still throwing up as soon as I wake up.

The worst part is the toothpaste. Dwight got us a new tube the last time we were in town, but he doesn't pay attention to the flavor, so he got cinnamon. It tastes like those hot candies my brother used to trick me into eating as kids. I always get the regular mint kind without the fancy stripes, but I have to use this tube up before we can get another.

Birdie's playing with the puzzle her dad made for her birthday in the living room.

"Hey, where's Daddy?"

"Feeding the chickens."

"How come you're not out with him?"

"Because Daddy said no."

"No?" I look out the sliding glass door to the backyard, where I can make him out by the coops.

"Mommy, here."

I glance back down at her extending the "R" block. "You want me to help you?"

"Yeah."

I sit down on the couch. "Alright, bring it up here."

Birdie picks up the wooden slab and knocks the letters off when she tilts it to the side. "Uh-oh."

"That's okay, we can do it together."

Dwight comes in through the kitchen door with the basket I put the eggs in under his arm.

"Daddy!"

He sets the eggs by the sink. "One second, baby."

"I'm not a baby." She says in a much milder way than she usually retorts, before she goes back to the puzzle on her lap.

I run my hand through her messy bedhead, watching Dwight as he washes the eggs in the sink.

"Here."

"Where does this one go?" I ask her, taking the "E" block.

"Um, I don't know."

"Look at the shape it is," I hold it in front of her, "Do you see any other shape like that on the board?"

"Um…" Birdie takes the block and studies the board intensely. "Here."

"Good job!" I praise with a smile. "Go ahead and put it there."

"Okay," She fits the block over the space, "Pound it."

"You're so smart."

"Yeah."

I chuckle, kissing her head. "So modest, too." I touch my belly. "The baby's kicking."

"It is?"

"Yeah, you wanna feel?"

"Yeah." Birdie moves the puzzle away, getting up on her knees.

"Okay, put your hand right there."

Birdie places her hand on the side of my bump.

"Do you feel it?"

Her eyes stay fixed on her hand, but she doesn't say anything.

"Bird?"

She nods her head, removing her hand.

"What's the matter, Pigeon?"

"I don't want you to have another baby, Mommy."

Her eyes seem to tear up a little.

"Oh, Birdie," I sigh, putting my arm around her, hugging her to me, "It's gonna be okay. I promise."

Dwight comes into the living room, drying his hands on a rag. "Alright, what do you want for breakfast?" He looks up when Birdie doesn't answer. "What's wrong with her?"

"Oh, nothing," I tell him, smiling plainly as I hold her, "We're just a little sad we're not gonna be an only child anymore."

"Oh," He nods, "Are you up for eating breakfast?"

"I think so."

"Oatmeal okay?"

"Yeah," I look at Birdie, petting her head, "Did you hear that? Daddy's gonna make oatmeal?"

Birdie lifts her face from my shoulder.

I wipe the soft trail of tears away. "Does that sounds good to you, or should we eat something else?"

"No, I want oatmeal."

"Okay."

"Come on, come help me." Dwight offers his hand out to her.

"No," Birdie croaks, putting her arms back around me, "I want Mommy."

I kiss her salty cheek. "Let's go help Daddy. You'll feel better." I pick her up and carry her into the kitchen.

We spend the rest of the morning inside between the kitchen and the living room. Birdie occupied my side after feeling the baby move. That's one of two of her typical reactions. The other one is delighted at the phenomenon of feeling the baby kick inside me and inarguably the more favorable outcome.

"Ouch, you gotta be gentle, Pidge."

"'Kay." Birdie runs the comb down my hair.

"Don't tug on the tangles."

"I don't want to comb your hair no more."

"You only got the back of my head."

"Here." She hands me the comb.

"Brat," I chuckle, taking the comb, "I combed your hair."

"I'm your baby." She lays her head on the top of mine, hugging her arms around my neck.

"I thought you were a big girl?"

"I am a big girl." She sweetly pecks the top of my head like I do with her. "I wanna go out and play."

"You do?" I push myself from off the floor against the couch.

"Yeah!"

I groan a little as I stretch. "I have to go to the bathroom before we do anything."

"You pee too much."

"Well, so would you if you had a baby sitting on your bladder." I go to my bedroom. Dwight's putting away some of his laundry he took off the line. "Boy, you've been busy this morning."

"Yeah." He replies, closing his drawer.

I put my hands behind my back. "You know, Birdie's getting a little bored inside. I thought I'd take her out to swing. Is that okay?"

He looks at me. "Why are you asking me?"

I shrug. "So, it's okay?"

Dwight huffs. "Yeah, it's fine. Why are you asking my permission?"

I shrug again. "I have to pee."

I go to the bathroom to relieve my aching bladder. When I come out, Birdie's on the bed.

"Are you standing on the bed?"

"No." She scrunches her nose with a bratty smile, defiantly standing on the bed.

"You just think you are too funny, don't you?" I take her off the bed, peppering her with kisses.

She cackles. "Yeah!"

"You are so cute," I set her down, "Go get dressed and we'll go play outside."

"Yay!" She runs over to Dwight. "Daddy, come play with us."

"I will after I'm done working."

"No, now, Daddy."

"I've gotta go catch dinner."

"You're going down to the river?"

"Just for an hour or so," He tells me, "See if I can catch us some trout."

"Oh, okay," I shift my weight on each foot, "We'll go with you."

"What?"

"Birdie needs a little fresh air," I go to the dresser, "It's always nice down by the river."

"The fish won't bite if there's too much noise, Nan."

"Oh, we'll be quiet."

"No, I'm going alone."

I look at him.

"I wasn't gonna take the truck to save gas and Birdie can't make the walk and neither can you seven months pregnant."

I stare, taken back by his plain tone. "...You don't want us to go?"

"No." He shakes his head.

I nod, a little irked. "Okay."

I leave the bedroom in silence.

…

"Jesus," I squint as the sun beats down right in my face, "Fuck you, Sun."

It's so fucking hot. I've been sweating my dick off all damn day. My sweat-drenched clothes cling to me, which makes the B.O. stench worse.

I keep stopping every now and then to drink from the river I finally found, but it hardly does me any good when I've been walking for the past two days.

I've got all I want in water, but I'm fucking starving. I've been living off roasted acorns and fish the past few days. I never was much of a hunter and I don't much care for fish, but they're easier to catch. Problem is I keep getting the scrawny ones. I could go for a juicy steak.

I've been walking for about two days and I'm not really sure how much progress I've been making. I've come across small towns and suburbs and have scoured through them looking for signs of Nan or Dwight. Nothing so far but dead stinking in the hot sun.

I've been sleeping in those houses, too, but not as well as I'd like to. I can't let my guard down out here. People are looking for me.

I stop by the water to cool off for a bit. I wash my face and neck before taking a drink.

"Shit." I sit my ass down on a log.

This river can go miles farther than I anticipated walking. I know Nan said they lived two hours away, but fucking hell. I don't even know if I'm on the right path.

Sure, I found the river, thanks to Judith, but how the hell do I know if I'm going the right way? I'm just following it up. For all I know, they could live far away from it and just happened to be there when Rick washed up.

No, they'd have to live close to the water. Where else would they get clean drinking water? They wouldn't travel all the fucking way to it on a daily basis. Not even a weekly basis. Right?

"Right." I rasp, staring at the minnows darting in the water.

I take off my long shirt. I've been using it as a net to trap in as many as I can. When I said I was catching the scrawny ones, I meant minnows.

…

Dwight came home about an hour later, like he said he would, with four fish strung on a line. He took a shower after handing them to me and then went outback to carve some wood.

He's been quiet since Rick came two mornings ago to inform us Negan had escaped. Or maybe it's because of how I reacted.

Dinner is a little quiet, too, except for Birdie's chatter between bites. I want to break the silence, but I'm also still upset about earlier this afternoon, so I just talk to Birdie when she says anything.

I let her stay up a little after Dwight leaves to go on his real perimeter check, after taking Birdie around the outside of the house.

"Ew, you farted!"

"No, I didn't."

"Yeah!" She laughs, pinching her nose closed.

"The baby makes me gassy," I murmur as I concentrate on painting her toes, "Hold still, okay?"

"Mommy, I wanna sleep here."

"You do, huh?"

"Yeah."

I cap the nail polish. "Well, Daddy will probably let you, since he has been the last couple nights."

"Yay!"

"Yay," I exhale, tired after a long day of having Birdie attached to my hip, "I'm gonna take a quick shower, okay?"

"Okay."

"I want you to stay in this room, got it?"

"Got it."

The front door opens and shuts. "Dwight?"

"Yeah?"

I look over at Birdie. "Nevermind."

I get in the shower and I wasn't lying when I said I was taking a quick one. I wanted in and out so I could go to bed soon. In the bathroom, I hear Dwight talking to Birdie. She giggles.

"Let me see," He's knelt by the bed, holding one of her ankles, "Does this one smell?" He sniffs her foot, making her chuckle. "No."

"Other one."

"Alright, let me smell the other one." He takes her other foot and sniffs. He makes a face. "Whoa, what did you step in?"

Birdie laughs. "It's not stinky!"

"Are you sure about that?" He smiles at her laughter. "Sure smelled stinky to me."

"No!" She cackles, lifting the same foot. "Smell it again."

"Are you trying to kill me?"

Birdie giggles. "Yeah."

"Oh, you are, huh?"

"Yeah."

He slowly creeps up, making her chuckle. "Well, what if I get you first!" He tickles her with a playful growl, sending her into a wild laughter.

I smile. They play this game a lot, or some version of it and it never stops being cute.

"Stop, stop!" Birdie rolls this way and that way in side-splitting laughter.

Dwight ceases the tickling and pretend attack. "You gonna stop trying to kill me with those stinky feet?"

"Mm," She puts her finger up to her smart little pout, "Let me think about it. Okay."

"Shake on it."

"No." She giggles.

"You little liar." Dwight lovingly retorts. He looks up, spotting me by the bathroom door. He clears his throat. "Alright, stinky, time for bed."

"I wanna sleep in here with you and Mommy." Birdie says, already laying on the bed.

"Yeah?" Dwight shrugs off his jacket.

"Pleeease!"

"Yeah, alright, but it's not a permanent thing, Bird," He points to her, "Understood? You're gonna go back to sleeping in your room soon."

"Tomorrow?"

"We'll see." Dwight says under his breath.

I walk over to the dresser where my comb is.

Birdie sits up. "Mommy, I wanna brush your hair."

"I think I'm just gonna do it right now." I answer.

"No, I want to!" She falls back with a whine.

"You're too rough when my hair is dry," I run the comb through my hair, "How about I let you do it tomorrow when I wash my hair?"

"Okay." She pouts.

That way, my hair will already be detangled. Plus, when my hair's wet, it's impossible not to glide a comb effortlessly through it. A walker could do it.

"Where's my toothbrush?"

I look over, still combing. "What? Oh, I boiled them earlier. Probably still in the kitchen."

He heads out. "You don't need to boil the toothbrushes."

"You do to disinfect them," I reply, looking in the mirror, "Jerk."

"What?"

"I said, you do to disinfect them."

"Not every other week you don't," Dwight walks back to the bathroom, "It's gonna ruin them."

"Well, I'm bored," I put my hair up, "You've been doing all the stuff I do during the day, which gives me nothing to do, but stupid tasks."

"Sorry for letting you take a load off after being in the hospital."

"It…" I want to shout that it was only dehydration, less severe than I thought it was, but it's no use.

"Mommy, brush my hair."

"I did already."

"Do it again."

"No, I'm too tired, Pidge."

"Aw!"

"Hey, you wore me out today, kiddo."

"I was having fun, Mom."

I chuckle. "I know you were."

"I wanna get my socks."

"Okay, go get them real quick."

"'Kay."

She runs out of the bedroom. While she's away, I put on some moisturizer, glancing over at Dwight through my mirror as he brushes his teeth in the bathroom.

"Got 'em!"

"Why aren't they matching?" I take the pair she clearly parted from their other mates.

"I don't know." She climbs onto the bed.

"Whatever."

Dwight turns the light off in the bathroom.

"I have to pee!"

He flips it back on. "Alright, make it quick."

Birdie runs to the bathroom, closing the door until there's just a crack of light.

I lie down in bed, pulling the blankets over my lower half. "Shit."

"What?"

"I left my socks on the dresser." I complain, already getting comfy after a long day on my feet. I peel back the blankets to get up again.

"I'll get 'em." He walks over to the dresser.

"Thank you." I take the socks, somewhat shy.

"How's your back?"

"It's just now starting to ache," I tell him as I put the sock on my feet, "I'll take an aspirin before I go to sleep."

He nods his head.

I look up at him standing in front of me. "I upset you when I said I cared about Negan, didn't I?"

Dwight meets my eyes.

"That's why you've been quiet the past few days?"

His eyes scan my face before he looks down at his hands. "I don't care about that."

"Then what?" I ask him. "What is it?"

Birdie flushes the toilet and soon after opens the door. "Daddy, I have to wash my hands."

"Okay, I'll come help you." He looks at me and then goes to help Birdie.

I sit in bed with an ache in my throat. He is upset with me. I fight off hormonal tears before they leave the bathroom.

Birdie climbs back in the bed and crawls towards me. "Are you sleepy?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sleepy," I hold her, "Are you?"

"Mm, no."

"No?" I chuckle, "I don't believe you."

"You sleep in the middle, Mommy."

"The middle? But you sleep in the middle."

"No, you sleep there," She moves across my lap, "You're the biggest."

"Thanks, Bird." I scooch over to the middle part of the bed.

"We can snuggle, Mommy."

I smile, letting her lay against me. She's been so sweet today.

"But not the baby," She says, looking up at me, "The baby can't snuggle with us."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but if the baby's in my tummy, it snuggles when I do."

She chuckles. Her eyes glance down and slowly I feel a foot touch the round part of my stomach.

"Are you kicking the baby?"

"No."

"Then what are you doing?" I ask as she moves her foot along my bump.

"Petting you."

"With your feet?"

"Yeah, my socks are warm."

I can't help but laugh. "You little weirdo."

"Mommy, the baby can feel my foot?"

"Mm, I don't know. Maybe."

She lays her head down against me. I hum a little song for a while, until she goes to sleep, which doesn't take very long.

My eyes had trouble staying open as I hummed, also wiped out after the day I had with Birdie. I brave to slide myself down into bed and turn myself over, since I can't sleep on my back, without waking her up.

Dwight's lamp turns off and I'm suddenly reminded that he is in bed, too. I glance over as he sets a book down on his night stand. He makes eye contact with me as he too settles down for bed.

I face Birdie as I lay down, draping my arm over her. I peer over my shoulder. "Goodnight."

"Night."

I sigh through my nose, closing my eyes.

…

Did you know minnows could give you the shits? 'Cause I sure as hell do. I've been stopping every twenty minutes. I don't know how; those little assholes have no meat on their bones. I'm almost tempted to go back to my cell just for the privilege of toilet paper. I've had to sacrifice the button up shirt I found.

That and I've had a shitty time, no pun intended. It's hot as hell, I'm starving, I can't stop shitting, and every couple miles is lousy with the dead. I don't really have the energy to fight 'em off.

I can hear one right now. God, that's such a fucking annoying ass sound. Can't believe I used to have a bunch of 'em strung along the Sanctuary.

I look around with my tired eyes, trying to find the growling fucker. I can hear it, but I don't see it. It sounds some distance off.

I come across an old house that's got untame plants growing up the sides. The windows reveal a dark inside. I peek in to look for signs of movement. I then go around to the front door and enter.

It's empty, or at least the front of the house is. I find a dusty ass chair and plop down in it, exhausted. I can feel my stomach gurgle painfully. Maybe I shouldn't have eaten the scales.

I look around the dreary fucking room as I start to feel sorry for myself.

I'm not calling it quits, but fuck is this hard. I know how to survive out here, I had to do it way back when the world first changed, but it's different this time. I didn't have any drive in life back then, I was just surviving because I didn't want to die. I just sort of moved from place to place like this until I stumbled across the factory. Food was a little easier to find and I wasn't ducking the law for escaping prison.

But now I've got my girls to find and it's bugging the everliving fuck out of me that I haven't by now. I've followed that fucking river for three fucking days now and nothing. All I fucking want it is to see my daughter. Is that a fucking crime? Is it too fucking much to ask for? I'm that bad guy that even the universe is against me?

A shadow grows over the room. I glance up towards the windows.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

It's really gonna fuckin' rain. That's just what I need; mud to fucking trudge and sink into.

"Fuck me." I sigh. At least it'll be respite from the sun.

I pull myself up to explore the house, hoping to find something useful. Like toilet paper, or another shirt to keep my arms from burning. The place looks picked pretty clean. Some of the cupboards and cabinets aren't even closed. What barn-raised animal doesn't fucking close the cabinet doors?

I go through the master bedroom, but find nothing I can use. The bathroom has nothing either, unfortunately, except more open cupboards and a medicine cabinet.

Across the hall is a closed door. On it hangs a small heart pillow that was once pink with a lace trim that was once white. Looks like some ugly thing you'd have on a baby's door.

I go inside and glance around the ransacked room. It was a nursery. I can tell, because the crib and changing table are the only things left in the room, besides the dust-covered picture frames and wall decor.

I stare at the crib. Why the hell would you take everything in the room, except the essential shit? Then it dawns on me. I leave the room and by now it's stopped raining, so I get the hell out of there.

I head back to the river. The growling from earlier gets a little closer and it isn't long, until I come across it.

The rotting bastard stares gauntly at me with it's yellow eyes. It reaches for me with it's bony limb, pawing the air. I grin, walking away from it, letting it remain stuck on the spike. I follow the blockade down until I reach the river. And then I climb over it. I knew I was going the right way.

Thanks for reading! I know it's a short, boring chapter. I wrote it between finals lol.