Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Sasha knocked hard on the glass and waited for any signs of walkers, seeing Enid scanning the area for any walkers attracted to the noise, and she adjusted the machete in her hand. She heard wheezing coming from inside the building and backed up to the open door, gripping the machete firmly and waiting for the walker or walkers to exit. Enid pulled her knife from its sheath and followed suite. They made quick work of the three walkers that shambled out of the building, all old and decaying, and Enid checked them for marks of the Shah, but they were common walkers. She was relieved and caught up to Sasha inside.

"We should get her a size bigger," Enid commented. "Because of the baby. She'll need room due to the increase in breast size and belly size."

"You're right." Sasha swiped a white clothing bag from the counter and unzipped it to ensure it was empty before moving back to the gowns. "What style do you think Carol would like best?"

"I think Carol would want to feel beautiful," Enid replied, knowing more about Carol from late night conversations with Carl. "Like a queen."

"Then this tiara veil is going to be coming home with us." Sasha smiled as she plucked the dusty crystal encrusted crown off the display. "And I thought this would be difficult."

Enid chuckled. "Nah, just heavy."

"A lot of that going around." Sasha sighed softly. "I'm glad to be having this wedding. Some blessed levity when all there is, is war and bloodshed."

"That's not all there is."

"Right now it is."

Enid lowered her eyes. "I'm not sure what to do with the Hilltop once the Shah issue has been resolved. We'll need a new focus, and I am not sure what to make that focus. I know it should be about the future, about preserving the Hilltop and all that comes with it, but it's so difficult. I don't know where to start."

"Where did you stop?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you have a plan before the Shah were around? When you were running to be elected?"

"I want to continue its progression and harvest a healthy and lasting future. I want to secure the walls and enlighten its people. I want to build a future that will stand against the wear and tear of time. I just don't know how to start." Enid fingered a gown and let her hand fall back to her side. "I can't ask Maggie. She's so proud of me doing this on my own. I can't let her down."

"You won't be letting her down by asking for help. Everyone has to ask for help at some point in life, and if you don't ask, you might lead them down a path they'll never recover from. Do you want that?"

"Of course not."

"Then speak to Maggie. Get a piece of her mind and meld it with your own. You'll find what the future holds together, okay? Being… being part of a group when it comes to the tough decisions is the smartest move you can make."

She smiled softly at her. "You're right. Thank you."

"I'm pretty damn smart, you know."

"I know. I just…never get to talk to you." She plucked a gown from its hanger and held it up to her. "How about this one?"

"Too much cleavage."

"But it's white lace." Enid gestures to the neckline. "It'll show all her cute freckles."

"That's true." Sasha didn't know much about the gowns and body types, but Enid seemed to know more in that regard. They could help each other with their problems and maybe find some solutions. It was worth a shot. It wasn't like her big brother could help her with her man problems, and while Enid was young, she was a thinker. She might have something cooking under those brown locks. It was worth a shot. People surprised her every single day, so why not today?

They talked and gathered items for the wedding, Enid had some fun with it, trying on a few dresses and head pieces and having a good ole time with it, making Sasha laugh and question herself when asking advice from such a young soul. But Enid was more than her youth, and being elected as Hilltop's lead proved as much. She was going to lead them to a shining future, and Sasha couldn't want to see what all she would go on to do. She felt pride in the young woman before her, and as it swelled, Sasha realized then there was something she was holding back on. It was time to have that talk with Abraham about kids again. Once the Shah were resolved, the future would be endless, so why the hell not?

Glenn lead his group down the trail they had decided on, Tara and Tobin were searching the area for any movements, and they spoke little. It was more of hunting than anything, and they had to be careful to not be overheard. For all they knew, they were being surrounded by members of the Shah, and it was only a matter of time before they were cornered. If they were, they would have to find some way out of it and speaking lowly offered them a chance to escape. They had worked out a few plans of escape on the way, and while Tobin wasn't the best person to have with them, he would work it out. Glenn would ensure he survived this trip. No matter the cost.

"Glenn." Tara caught his arm and gestured ahead to a suitcase lying on the ground.

"I see it." He lifted his gun and approached the bag, instructing Tobin to stay back and keep guard, and Tara refused to leave his side. They moved as one approaching the suitcase, and Tara knelt to unzip it carefully—oh, so carefully—in case they were explosives in the bag, and Glenn looked for any movement. "Easy."

"If I were any easier, I wouldn't unzipping it at all."

"I'm just looking out for you."

"And I appreciate that." Tara guided the zipper along its path until it was completely undone, and she listened for any clicks or ticking as she lifted it open, and there was nothing. She tossed the lid aside and revealed a single sonogram picture of baby Dixon. "What the hell?"

Glenn reached inside the case and picked it up, turning it over to see there was nothing on the back. No notes, no clues, nothing. It was a false trail they'd been following, and Mordin wanted them to know as such. "Son of a bitch."

On the other side of the woods, Noah guided Rosita and Francine down their clearly trampled path, and Rosita estimated about five walkers had been over the area, but it wasn't naturally made. It was meant to look like walkers had only been across this path by chance, but it was man-made. Mordin had wrangled up some walkers and used them in an attempt to mislead the group. He wouldn't get away with it, as they were two groups of people hunting him down. He would have to take harder than that.

"Keep your guard up. We know he has multiple walkers with him," Rosita advised the group. "We need to be cautious."

"Roger." Francine eyed the path before them and noted some white rocks among the mess. "You see this?" She brushed leaves aside to reveal the small white pebbles and picked one up. "Do you think this was an escape route made for him by his people?"

"It's possible. It's difficult to notice them among the leaves, and who would pay attention to a few scattered white rocks?" Noah ran his eyes over the area and saw several white rocks poking out along the trail. "He wouldn't have just left them like this without a reason. He knew we'd follow him."

"So, how do we proceed?" Francine tossed the rock aside. "We could be walking into a trap."

"We could always be walking into a trap," Noah reminded her. "For Charlotte's sake, we have to proceed. We can handle anything they throw at us."

"Yeah, I bet Rick thought the same thing before they chopped his hand off." Rosita placed her hands on her hips. "We need Glenn's group. They outnumber us on a good day. I am not risking limbs for this."

"All right. Why don't we circle back and meet up with Glenn?" Noah suggested. "We can come back up this way once we have everybody."

They retraced their steps back to the meeting point, seeing Glenn's group coming in the distance, and they regrouped. They spoke briefly about what they had found at the end of their trail then moved towards the location of the white pebbles Francine had found. Noah and Glenn took point while Tara and Rosita took up the rear.

"So, what do you mean about the white pebbles?" Glenn inquired, holding his gun closer in case this was the true path. "I mean, what do you think it means? A code? Or just…painted rocks?"

"I don't know. I've never been to one of their scenes. I don't know what it could mean." Noah glanced back at Rosita and Tara. "They're the only ones of us who've been there."

"Their encounter was traumatic. I don't think it's wise to ask them about it just yet."

"We can hear you, you know," Rosita called up to them. "We're in the middles of the woods, and there's not much else noise going on."

"Well, it was traumatic, and I don't think we should ask you about it right now," Glenn shot back. "Unless you recall pebbles or other important information?"

"No, I wasn't looking at the ground until I was shoved face first into it."

"Do you remember anything?" Noah turned to face them, stopping in his stride. "Hmm?"

"Nothing that will help," Tara answered honestly. "I've gone over it with Michonne, and I know nothing useful. I saw what everyone saw. Only Carol had the best seat in the house for the Shah."

"That's twisted," Francine remarked.

"What's twisted was trying to handle Rick Grimes' hand landing two feet from my face," Rosita shot back. "I agreed to come out here and help find the Shah, but I am not going to take any slack. We saw nothing useful. We have no information to go on, and I am fucking pissed off, because those assholes are making clowns of us."

"They won't always have the upper hand, Rose," Glenn informed her. "We'll find something."

"When, Glenn? And how?" Rosita was ready to throw down and scream. "My Coco would be in danger, just like Charlotte and whoever else fits the profile—a profile we don't even know. I—is it girls? Is it age? Is it hair color? Height? Weight? Who fucking knows? Not us, that's for sure."

"Rosita, please—"

"No, don't ask me please! I am fed up with the Shah. Day in, day out, it's the Shah! They are lurkers in the shadows, and I am sick of them. I am sick of holding my baby girl as though it could be the last time, because I don't know this enemy. Inside, outside, the way they walk, the way they talk—nada. It infuriates me. You have to relate. You have Joss and Hersh, and you have to get it." She searched his eyes before he ducked his head, and she closed the space between them. "Tell me you don't hold those babies in a death grip for fear of those bastards taking them should you not. Tell me you don't."

"Of course I do. We all do." Glenn lifted his head. "But we don't give up either. They want to hunt? Let's give them a hunt, but we don't have to be the prey. That's a mindset I refuse to live under."

Rosita gripped her flashlight tightly and nodded. "Fair point."

"I know." He smiled. "Now let's stop arguing over them and find one of them."

"Lead the way."

They continued onward, finding more pebbles spread further out as they traveled along, cutting out conversation and focusing on the area around them. Should any members of the Shah be lurking around, they would be ready. They were armed, prepared and dangerous, even if the Shah were too. There would be no surprises this time.

They came upon a clearing. Tara was losing her fondness for clearings, Rosita was on edge, and Francine held her gun closer. Glenn and Noah spotted someone in the middle of the field, and Tobin made out the body type of their former doctor Mordin. He was standing there in tattered robes, looking up at the evening sky with his hands behind his back, unmoving.

"Noah, Tara, stay hidden in the woods," Glenn whispered. "Tobin, Francine, go around to his front, and once we distract him, move in on him. Tara, you're with me."

They took their position, Glenn and Tara entered the glen, and Mordin turned around to face them, hands still behind his back. Glenn noted how pale he looked in the evening light, sweat coating his brow, and he looked so very little like the man who delivered Hersh, Joss and Monroe. He was a stranger to them, a spy, a foot in the door for the Shah. He wouldn't leave this glen in anything but handcuffs with a cell waiting for him back home.

"Hello, Glenn, Tara." Mordin smiled at them. "You found the trails?"

"Yeah, both of them." Tara tossed out the picture of baby Dixon. "Wanna tell us why you had this in a suitcase?"

"That wasn't for you." Mordin inhaled and exhaled, the air slowly slipping from his lips, and he released his hands from behind his back. "That was for Ila, to see the baby's progress. He is next in line, should he mirror his sister."

"Why should he mirror his sister?" Glenn commanded. "What about Charlotte has attracted your people to her?"

Mordin smirked darkly. "She is chosen."

"But why? She's just a little girl. Her biggest concern should be if the Tooth Fairy is coming or not, not if your sickness will take her life," Tara shouted, thinking of her niece who had lost her life too young. "You can't imagine the stress you have put on that child, but you will pay for it."

"I've already paid my bill." He reached into his waistband, Tara lifted her gun instantly at to strike, and he pulled out a knife. One of the handcrafted blades of his people, and he held a hand up to warn Tara not to shoot. She would aim for his head, and he didn't want that. He wanted to return and find his people. He wasn't marked. He wasn't a Reject or a Blessed One, but he could still honor his people and his memory. He had trained others with his skills, so he wasn't worried about them having a doctor, and all there was left to do was join the horde. "Don't worry. It's not for you."

"Mordin, wait." Glenn's boot moved forward in the high grass, Mordin positioned the knife over his heart, and Glenn held his hands out after tucking his gun back into his holster. "Wait, please, you don't have to do this."

"I will not be used to betray my lady and my people." He swallowed with ease and met Glenn's eyes. "I was honored to deliver young Hershel and Josslyn. Take care of them, and take care of chosen one."

"Wai—"

"Just leave me to ascend," he requested, and Glenn moved to run; however, he plunged the knife into his heart before Glenn could take another step closer. He fell to his knees, eyes cast upward at the fading sun, and a smile painted itself across his lips before he fell back onto the ground. Glenn caught his shoulders and held him in his arms, seeing blood profusely gushing from the wound, and he set a trembling hand on his chest, knowing there was nothing he could do but watch the light fade from those hazel eyes.

Nina curled up on the ground, holding onto her kneecap that had been shot, and she whimpered, hands sticky with her own blood, and she quaked there on the cement floor. She couldn't believe what she had done. She couldn't believe it she'd lost sight of herself in such a way. She was better than that, stronger than that, but at the end of the day, she was still an animal. One that crawled and hissed like a hellcat when backed into a corner….

Carol sat on the floor, applying light pressure to the wound on her belly and praying—actually, finally praying—to God that her baby be all right. She couldn't stand to lose him. She loved him so much. She had never meant to risk him. She thought it would be easy, an in and out task, but no. No, it may have cost the life she had been trying to protect. God, please, no.

Nina crawled over to the other corner, crying out and clenching her teeth as she moved into a sitting position, and she dug her teeth into her bottom lip as she raised her knee, seeing the bullet lying in a puddle of her blood. She knew Carol was a good shot, but God damn. That was pure luck. It just needed cleaned and dressed. Not that she saw those actions happening anytime soon. She had brought that on herself. All she had to do was spill the beans on the Shah, who she had no interest in protecting, and that was that. She would go on trial and have her fate be decided by a jury of her peers, and that would…be that.

"God, Carol." Tears built in her light eyes, and she smacked a bloody hand down hard onto the cement. "I'm so sorry."

Carol's eyes sliced into Nina's, and with bloody fingertips, she fingered the gun sitting beside her. She could pick it up and end this conversation before it even began. She could kill this bitch and be justified. Hell, if she didn't kill her, all she had to do was go see Daryl and he'd do it himself. But something told her not to do either action. She needed to listen. Even if she didn't want to. God, she didn't want to. She was enraged, and it was all she could do to contain it. "Don't say my name."

"I didn't mean to hurt him. I really didn't mean to." She bawled like a baby, and she couldn't hold it back anymore. "I'm not who you think I am, and not in the obvious way."

"Shut. Up. I don't give a damn who you are or who you think I think you are."

"I—I'm not one of them. I mean, I was. I mean, I wasn't but I was, because I had no choice. You either are with them or you die, and I was too scared of dying." She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and smeared blood across her nose and upper lip. "I… I don't know what they have in mind for Caleb. Or for Charlotte."

"Who's Caleb?" Carol tilted her head to the side. "The little boy? The one you sold out?"

She nodded. "He was only three, you remember?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because he wasn't of age. He was still just a baby then, and they want little to do with babies." She soothed herself like she'd soothed a young one and decided to confess to it all. There was no point holding it all in. She was going to die anyway, therefore protecting the only future they'd known was pivotal. She would die making good use of her Shah knowledge. What little of it she had.

"What do you mean?" Carol removed her hand from the gun and set it over the wound. "What age?"

"Eight. Like Emily. Charlotte's only six. She has two more years before she's of age. Judith has one." She snuffled and shivered. "Look, I know I should have told you all this earlier, but you need to understand something: I am not a member of the Shah. I never was."

"You're marked."

"Yes, to breed. I—I have features Ila was attracted to, and she wanted me to have children, to supply them with Blessed Ones, but…" She lowered her eyes. "I wasn't able to get pregnant."

"Wait, Nina—"

"Yeah, they forced me into the ritual of conception," Nina nodded her head weakly. "I was drugged and dressed up and left with Ila's son, Asa. I was just a baby machine to them, hence the crown, but I…. I wasn't able to conceive, so they tried to kill me. They stabbed me through the crown in an attempt to kill me. They left me in a field of contained walkers, roped together like horses and cattle, and they waited for me to die and turn."

Carol closed her eyes and turned her head away.

"Only I didn't die. I thanked God for that and for my escape, because I found my way here. My way home." Tears spilled from her eyes as she spoke gently, fondly, full of love, and she wrapped her arms around herself. "I was saved by God and Jesus and by Deanna. She was my hero, and I couldn't thank her enough for bringing me into her home."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you need to know the truth about me. I am not a villain here. I'm a survivor, just like you."

"You aren't like me."

"Perhaps not, but I'm not like them. If I were, wouldn't I have handed over Charlotte? To her be raised among the children and then used for the ritual of rebirth?"

"Ritual of rebirth?" Carol's head was spinning, but she knew what it meant. "Christ."

"I love Charlotte. She's like a daughter to me, too, and I love Mika. I love Judith. I love that baby inside of you. I love you, too, Carol, and I am sorry if you feel I am some terrible, disgusting creature, but I'm not. I was only human. I was trying to survive a fatal situation and tried to do the best for that baby boy as well."

"You had no way of knowing they'd keep him alive until he was eight years old."

Nina dropped her eyes. "You have me there."

"I have you more than there, but I need to check on my baby, so fuck you, Nina." She stood up. "You want to play victim, not survivor. A survivor would have ran with the child and done their best to make it work until they found this place. Or they would have taken what they could from the Shah and ran with the child at a later time."

"I didn't say I was a smart."

"Clearly." Carol moved for the door. "I'm done with you, Nina. I'll bring Denise to look you over, but I am done with you."

"Wait, Carol, please listen to me. If not for your sake, then for Charlotte's."

Carol paused. "What more could you possibly have to tell me?"

"I didn't know who Mordin was until a few hours ago. I saw him in the woods with the Artist. I knew then they were making moves to collect Judith. She's almost of age, and they'll need someone for the ritual of continuance. Now, I don't know what that means or what's involved in the ritual, but I do know that they will stop at nothing to get Judith if they don't find another match. Hell, they might not want one as this town as two—possibly three—matches inside of it." At this point, someone close to the match was good enough.

"What match? What type attracts them?"

"Brown hair, blue eyes, white skin." She shifted on the floor and grimaced, a white-hot pain shooting through her knee at the movement, and she panted to try and ease the pain. It did nothing, but she had to make it work until Denise was here. "Like the daughter."

"What daughter? Ila's?"

She nodded. "I've never seen her, and I've never heard the story. All I can tell is it warped Ila and Eeron. Asa was young, so he was raised in the cult. He has known no other way. They built the Shah out of nothing, because of their daughter. I don't know what happened to her, but it was horrifying. It had to be."

Carol shook her head. "I've heard enough of the Shah for one evening. I'll be back with Denise."

"Carol?"

She paused in the doorway and looked back at the pathetic mess she'd made of Nina. "What?"

"I am sorry, for what it's worth. I do still love you and trust you, and I hope you… Well, that's all I can say. To hope would be painful, and I want you to know I am very, very…very sorry."

Carol said nothing and headed out of the building, closing Daryl's over shirt over the bloody cut and stepping out into the night. She headed to the clinic to find Denise and Michonne still researching Mordin's notes and pictures.

"Denise?" Carol knocked on the door frame.

"Yeah?" Denise looked up from the pictures of them from the grove and zeroed in on the blood on her fingertips. "What happened?" She stood up and headed over to her, grasping her hands and seeing the blood just beneath her over shirt. "Oh, God, Carol."

"What?" Michonne walked over to them and saw the blood. "Shit."

They headed into the clinic, Denise was so relived to see it was just a superficial wound and that her wrist was only sprained, and Michonne wheeled over the sonogram machine. Denise wrapped her wrist, and they checked in on baby boy Dixon and discovered some…issues. It felt like all the time in the entire world had slowed way, way down. Surely movements were in slow motion. Surely feet were inching closer and closer to the ground so slowly it looked as though they weren't moving towards anything at all; they were simply hovering there above the asphalt. And all of this was happening because Denise couldn't find his heartbeat from any angle she attempted, and Carol was in distraught, in tears, and Michone encircled her shoulders with her arms to console her.

"Shh, it's all right." Michonne wasn't going to give up on that boy. He was fine; he was just being difficult at the moment. His mom was in a tough spot, and so was he. That was all there was to it. "Denise, keep looking. I'm sure it's just…interference."

"From what?" Denise sank into the stool a little more and removed the probe, but she nodded, stretching her arm before beginning to search again. She wouldn't give up. She couldn't give up. Come on, baby. Work with me. Please. "Okay."

"I know he's all right," Michonne assured Carol.

Carol whimpered. Don't let this be my punishment for going after Nina alone. He was a good boy, a sweet boy. He deserved to see the world and see his father and sisters and continue to live and grow and know how loved he is. He deserved so much better than to pass on. So please don't let this be a punishment. Let this be a lesson where she learned to slow down, where she learned the risks of this world had consequences that affect people beyond herself. Please, God, please. Don't let this be an end.

"Hang on." Denise scooted closer and adjusted the probe one final time and gasped in relief at the sound of a rapid heartbeat filling the room. "Thank God."

Carol buried her face in Michonne's shoulder as she sobbed in relief, holding onto her hand tightly.

They relished that moment with the sound of a heartbeat filling the room, Denise made a joke about recording it for Carol to listen to whenever she wanted to get into trouble, and Michonne demanded to know what the fuck had happened to put her and the baby in danger. Carol had to admit it was her own fault. She told them what had happened and begged them not to mention it to Daryl.

"It's fine, because you're all right, and the baby is all right, and that cut isn't very deep; but you're out of head if you think I won't tell Daryl about this." Michonne shook her head. "You made a decision that impacted his son without his consent or knowledge. He needs to know."

She dried her eyes. "All right. I'll talk to him but let me be the one to bring it up."

"That's fair." Michonne squeezed her hand. "Let's get you cleaned up. We'll go back to my place, run you a bath, and we'll get you some of my clothes to wear."

Carol laughed now. "I love you, Michonne, but I am pregnant. There's no way I'm fitting into your pants."

She chuckled with her. "I do have stretchy pants, Carol. I was pregnant, too."

"Oh, right, RJ. I completely forgot." She slid off the gurney and rubbed under her nose. "All right. Let's go."

"Wait, let's get that jell off your belly!" Denise handed over a towel.

Carol cleaned her belly off and the three of them headed over to Rick and Michonne's house. Michonne drew Carol a bath, Denise had some dried petals and lavender to toss in, and Carol thanked them for their help and their comfort. Carol sat down in the tub and pulled her legs loosely to her chest, long hair wet and curled down her back, heeding her wrapped wrist and its waterproof wrappings, and Denise sat on the toilet talking to her softly. She laughed at the conversation and flicked a wet petal onto her face. Denise peeled it off and dropped it into the trashcan, warning her not to go with again or she'd leave her all alone in the bathroom.

"Oh, such a threat. I wouldn't want privacy." Carol wriggled her toes in the warm water and twisted a piece of hair around her finger.

"It is a threat, because they'll be nobody to help you get those Michonne pants on."

"Ahh, so true. I do need help with my pants." Carol bobbed her head.

"Yeah, so be nice to me. I am a treat."

She snickered. "Oh, okay, yeah, you're a cheese Danish."

"You still want one?" Denise scrunched her nose.

"Like you wouldn't believe." Carol sighed. "And mustard."

"Not together, though, right?"

"Honestly, I couldn't tell you."

"All right. I'm going to get some apples for us. I am hungry, and you need sugar."

"Thank you, Denise." She smiled softly at her. "I love you."

"I love you, too, now sit tight." Denise left the bathroom and found Daryl just outside the door. "Jesus!"

"Sorry." He held his hands up in a gesture of peace. "Is Carol in there?"

"Yeah, she's talking a bath. Do you want to see her?"

"No, but I need your help."

"Of course, just let me know with what."

He explained the surprise wedding he had in mind for them, Denise was instantly on board, and he mentioned how everyone had returned from their hunts, how the gown was picked out, how the flowers were made up, and how the girls were waiting in the guest bedroom for her. Denise nodded and told him they'd get her ready, and Daryl asked to see her.

"She's gonna be your wife," Denise grinned, "so yeah, of course you can see her."

"Yeah, 'course." He thanked her and entered the bathroom, seeing his soon-to-wife sitting in the tub, running her hands over her upraised leg and setting it back into the milky water to do the same with the other leg. She was beautiful—as always—long hair clinging to her back, delicate fingers spreading as she rubbed her calf, and she released a breath before her head turned to him. A smile like moonlight and soft roses crossed her lips, and she set a hand on the edge of the tub, turning towards him.

"Hey."

"Hey." He moved closer to the tub. "How are you feelin'?"

"Better." She tucked hair behind her ear. "I need to talk to you."

"What about?" He knelt down in front of the tub and overlapped his arms on the edge. "Is it bad news?"

"Sort of. It's about the Shah and Nina."

"Let me stop you right there." He waved a hand lightly from its resting place on his elbow. "We'll talk to Nina in the morning, and we'll get it straightened out. Michonne already agreed to lead the investigation on her."

"But Daryl, I—"

"No, please, not—not tonight." He lowered his eyes and exhaled then lifted his eyes to hers and smiled. "I got a surprise for you."

"What kind of surprise?" She wearily eyed him and set her hand over his one the edge of the tub.

"The best kind—I hope." He caught her pinkie between his pinkie and middle finger. "The whole town's been workin' on this surprise with me."

"Oh, God, that sounds huge." She couldn't think of anything that— "Wait, Daryl, do you mean…?"

By the smile spreading across his face, she knew instantly she was right in asking. She felt guilty. She'd completely forgotten about their wedding with the new access of information on the Shah. For God's sake, she was so driven by her need to know them, to hunt them, she put her baby at risk. She couldn't live like this anymore.

"Daryl." Her eyes burned, but she didn't want to think about why. Whether it was guilt or thankfulness, she didn't want to say. "You didn't."

"Well, it wasn't just me."

"I don't have anything to wear, and my hair is a mess." She shook her head. "Not to mention—"

"Hey, hey, hey," he tenderly interrupted her. "You're gorgeous, Carol, and I don't care if you got any of that weddin' junk, but Sasha and Enid figured you might want it; so, they went out and got you a dress. Beth's gonna do your hair, and anything else you might want done."

"Okay, now you're just trying to make me cry." She wiped at her eyes. "God."

He laughed. "I'm not tryin' to make you cry, just tryin' to lighten the mood around here and have you as my wife."

"I love you, do you know that?"

"I do." He cupped his hand against her cheek and wiped away a tear. "And I love you, too. I can't wait to marry you."

"Mrs. Daryl Dixon, party of five," Carol mused.

"Four and a half," he corrected lightly, and she chuckled. "I'll see you out there."

"Out where?" She titled her head to the side.

"You'll see." He kissed her lovingly on the lips then the forehead. "See you in a bit."

"See you in a bit."