Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Since the news of the baby, Lori had been distant. She kept to her room and didn't bother to come down for dinner. Dad had to bring it up to her and keep her company just to ensure she ate it. She would pick at her lunches and breakfasts, and she would lie and say she'd eaten at home. Carol knew better, and so did their friends. She wouldn't speak on the baby, and she wouldn't even look at Mom. They couldn't figure out if Lori felt replaced or betrayed or both, and she wouldn't give any hints. She became the most silent person in the group, and it was breaking their hearts.

Axel, on the other hand, had stepped up his game. He helped out around the house more. He helped Carol with Clay more. He helped Mom with carrying the littlest of things. He was thrilled for her, but there was pain there. He didn't want to worry the girls and confess why he felt pain (Eventually Karen and Tyreese would have to live together to raise this baby, meaning their family would be separated.) It wasn't like they could all live in this house like it was Full House and raise a new family within their already formed family. Even with the girls likely to be moving into dorms for college in a year or so, it wasn't possible. Karen and Tyreese would need space to grow and find themselves as parents and as lovers, so they would need their own space away from Axel and the girls and Clay. As much as that realization hurt, it was the truth. He only hoped when the girls realized it, it didn't cripple them.

Carol lied down on her bed with her big boy while Daryl paced back and forth along the width of the bed, and she'd stopped watching, because it was only making her nervous. She wanted to ask what was on his mind, but she wasn't sure he'd give an answer. He just kept pacing and thinking. She wondered if it had to do with the news of her new little brother or sister, but she couldn't ask. She had her own little booger to worry about.

"What's going to happen now?" Daryl inquired, stopping in his pacing and looking at Carol.

"What do you mean, what's going to happen now?" She lifted her eyes from Clay drooling on his teething toy to her boyfriend.

"What's going to happen here?" He gestured downward, referring to the house and the people inside of it. "Your mom is pregnant by the French teacher, your dad is helpful but rarely home, and Lori is off in the nonverbal. What's gonna happen here?"

"I don't know, to be honest." She sat up. "Mom hasn't spoken to me about her plans. I have no clue if she'll wait to move in with Ty until after the baby is born, or if they'll move together as soon as they find a place. It worries me, but I just don't know."

He nodded. "What if…it affects us?"

"It won't."

"How do you know that? We don't know what the future holds." He heaved a sigh. "I'm worried is all."

"I know you're worried, and I know there's a lot of unknowns going around, but we'll be fine." She slid off the bed and grasped one of his hands, lacing her fingers through them and smiling at him. "We…are a force to be reckoned with, and we will survive my parents' fallout."

He attempted a smile. "Sure."

"Daryl, please, trust me." She stepped into his arms and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "I love you, and that hasn't changed. I'll be eighteen soon enough, and we will be on our own, and all this will mean is I have a new brother or sister."

He searched her eyes and saw no lies there. "Can't fight this feelin' in my gut."

"Then come play with your son." She nodded her head to the bed. "Don't worry about my situation anymore. It belongs entirely to me."

"No, it doesn't. Not anymore. You know I love you, and your family is my family. That's how this works, and there's nothing…." He trailed off and sighed once more. "What if you do have to pick between your parents? What if something more comes up? It's never just small news around here."

"Yeah, something big is happening, and that's my new little brother or sister. That's all. You need to relax." She sat down on her bed and collected her son, kissing his cheek and whispering into his ear. "Let's go the park."

"I don't want to go with the park."

"Too bad. I've already told him, so we're going." She handed him over to his father. "Come on, grumpy pants, lighten up."

"I'll lighten up when this is over," he grumbled, following after her.

The trip the park was uneventful. Daryl was grouchy the entire time, stressing over her family life and all it meant while Carol and Clay played at the playground and made sand castles and spent a good thirty minute shaking sand out of his hair and pants and struggling to get him to stop trying to eat the sand.

She spent the day with laughter and no worries while Daryl was a dark cloud hanging over there. She told him again and again to loosen up, to lighten up and just cut loose, but he seemed to not understand this seemingly foreign concept. She rolled her eyes at his shoulder shrug and continued to play with their son. She had a blast and thought of a solution to their problem. Once she presented over lunch at the bistro nearby, and Daryl was all ears for this solution.

"We could move in together," she suggested. "I mean, I'm pretty much always at your place, or you're over at mine, and we always have a good time together. It'd be a great. We could raise our together like a real couple."

"There's only one problem to this," he pointed out. "Merle lives in my kitchen."

"That's true. I hadn't thought of that." She frowned and heaved sigh. "Think he'll find his own place?"

"Not without a shove out the door."

"Well, crap." She looked over at her little boy and smiled at him, trying to find a better way to resolve Daryl's stress. "Maybe that internship and housing would be enough for both of us. I could drive myself to school, and we have Annette to watch Clay."

"Yeah, when you're working, not all the time." He shook his head. "It wouldn't be ideal."

"I'm trying to find a solution to your make-believe problems, the least you could do is humor me." She heaved a sigh and ran a hand through her short locks. "Humor me, please, Daryl, because you're starting to drag me down. I can't go there. I can't imagine the separation of my entire world, and I can't imagine trying to survive it without you."

He reached over and grasped her hand. "You won't have to survive anythin' without me. I'm gonna be by your side through thick and thin, all right?" He brought her hand up his lips and kissed her knuckles. "All right?"

She smiled lovingly at him. "I love you, too."

They finished their meal and headed back to his place to hang out for a few hours, possibly get a little make out session in before Merle came home, or before Clay woke up from his nap; but all plans were dashed when they entered the apartment to find Merle pacing back and forth in the living room. He was going over some type of speech and talking to himself, and Daryl eyed him like he'd gone completely bonkers. Carol whispered to Clay this was how not to act, and Merle looked over at the lot of them.

"You're home." He managed a smile. "Good. I need to talk to you. In private."

Carol nodded. "I should put Clay down for his nap and call to check on my sister." She headed down the hall and left the nursery door open to try and strain her ears to hear what they were talking about. She hoped it was Merle moving out or finding a job or anything good. She didn't want it to be more bad news on top of the shitload they'd gotten lately. Well, Mom being pregnant wasn't bad news, only…heartbreaking news for Lori and anxious news for Daryl and Carol both. The future was so unsure right now.

Daryl set Clay's bag down on the coffee table along with his keys, and he motioned for Merle to sit, but Merle was too wound up in the best fucking way possible. Daryl decided to sit and brace himself for whatever news his brother had.

"All right. What's goin' on?" Daryl inquired, crossing his arms and meeting his brother's eyes.

"I want you to hear me about before you say anythin'," Merle began. "This could be a huge opportunity for me—for us, even, if you say yes. It'd be a joint venture, and I'd really appreciate your help with it 'cause you're my brother, and you know I'd do anythin' for you. Hell, I damn near have done anythin' for you—but that's not the point of this conversation."

"What is?" Daryl frowned. "You look more stressed than me, and I got a lotta shit on my plate. What's goin' on, Merle? Just spit it out."

"I've been looking for a job for weeks now," he told his brother. "No one who knows my history wants to hire me, though, so…I've had no luck with it."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. I've come up with a solution."

"You ain't gonna start sellin' Mexican Quaaludes again."

"No, but that'd be a good venture." He was joking, but Daryl didn't seem to see it as such. "I'm jokin'. Jesus, kid, do you not know me? I've changed. Somewhat."

"Somewhat, yeah." Daryl chuckled. "What's the point of this?"

"I found an old bar that's for sale," Merle proposed. "We could buy it. I could restore any damages. I know a good place to get supplies on the cheap, and I'm free labor, so it's really just the cost to buy and open it. I know a lot of venders, a lot of drunks, and I know I can make this work."

"I don't doubt that you could, but why did say "we could buy it". I can't buy a bar. I ain't even old enough to drink." Not that it stopped him in the past.

"You have good credit. You could take out a loan, and I could pay it back," he slowly said, and Daryl looked at him like he'd grown another head. "C'mon, brother."

"No, brother." He stood up. "It's taken me years to build my credit, and it ain't even that fantastic. I got baby credit, and I can't afford to fuck it up over a loan. I don't even have a credit card, because I don't want to add pressure to my credit score. That score is everythin' in the real world, Merle."

"I know it is, but I will pay you back cent for fuckin' cent. Have a little faith, brother." He searched his face. "Unless you have money stashed away…."

"I do, but it wouldn't be enough." He stood up. "Are you serious about this proposition?"

"'Course I am. I've been a drunk for many years, and I know how to handle 'em. I know what they like and how to charge 'em. Now I'd just be doin' it legally."

"Then talk to Amaro. He's always looking for small businesses to support." His nose scrunched in disgust, and Daryl smacked his hands together to make him stop. "Hey! He's a damn good man, Merle. He'll help you out better than I ever could. Now I'm serious, too. If you want to open a bar, ask him. I'll call him right now. Or drive you over to his place."

"You… you really think he'd help me?" Merle murmured.

"Yeah, I do. C'mon, lemme tell Carol, and we'll head out."

"Don't tell her about the bar, just let her know we got business to tend to," Merle called after him.

"Only if you learn to knock before you start openin' doors," Daryl called back and heard laughter. He found Carol in the nursery and told her of his plans to take Merle to see Amaro for a business venture.

"May I ask what?" she teased, knowing Merle didn't want her to know.

"You'll find out later." He caught her hips and brought her flush against him. "We might be able to reconsider your previous plans too."

"What, us living together?" He nodded. "How would that work? Once you're off to college and working the internship, what am I supposed to do? Live here with our infant son?"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to be a single mother living over a bakery." She sighed. "That isn't ideal. I want…us together, Daryl. I hate that we'll be apart."

"It won't be forever, and we can handle a little bit of space." He laced his fingers through hers. "Can't we?"

She grumbled but agreed. "We can."

"Thank you. Now, I gotta run and meet Amaro." He should let Merle drive and give him a call. He didn't know what Amaro would say, honestly, but he did like to support small and local businesses, and he did want to help Merle out. So, maybe he would say yes.

"Be safe." She kissed him. "And bring me back a cookie."

"You're standing on top of a bakery. Get your own cookie." He smiled to the left of his mouth, and she chuckled. "Wait, did you name it?"

"What? No, of course not."

"'Cause if you named it, and it's cookie, we're gonna have some words."

"I did not name our sex life."

"Good. Then I'll bring you the biggest damn cookie I can find." He stepped back and headed down the hall, assuring her he'd be all right, and he guided Merle out the door and to the car. Merle went over his proposal with Daryl. He helped him to edit it and paint it in a way that Amaro could respect, and Merle made faces at the comments. It was ridiculous, but Merle was Merle, and there was hardly any changing the man.

Once they arrived at the Martinez estate, Daryl rang the bell and waited to be let inside, and Merle made some comments about how Amaro spent his money. Daryl told him to leave it, and Merle shut his trap when the speaker came to life and buzzed them inside. He drove up and parked in his usual spot, showing Merle over to the door and knocking.

Flo opened the door and smiled at them, greeting them and showing them inside. She offered them something to drink from the drink cart and the kitchen, and Merle spotted some fine ass booze on the cart, but he opted for water. Daryl was proud of him, and they moved to the living room. She excused herself to call to Amaro, and about ten minutes he padded down the stairs with a smile on his face. It only widened at the sight of Daryl and Merle.

"Hello." He held his hand out and shook Merle's hand. "It's nice to see you again, Mr. Dixon."

"Merle, please." He forced a smile. He would be damned if the name Dixon tarnish his chance with the man. He just wanted to be Merle, the man who was seeking a fresh start. That was all. Really. "It's good to see you, too."

"So, what brings you by?" He motioned for them to sit, and they all sat down. "Daryl phoned me to ask me if I'd be home, but he was very mysterious about details. What's going on?"

"My brother's got somethin' he'd like to ask you." Daryl nudged him in the ribs. "Merle."

"Right." He cleared his throat. "I just have a small request, but I don't want you to think of this as a favor. I'll return every ounce of time and funding, if you accept the request."

"Funding?" Amaro's brow arched. "What's this about, fellas?"

"I can't get a job 'cause if who my old man was and who…who I am," he admitted. "I found an old bar that I want to buy and renovate. I know it seems risky, having an alcoholic owning a bar, but this is my only chance to get my life back on track."

Amaro rubbed his jaw and nodded his head for more information, Merle got into the nitty gritty details of the bar—the location, the type of people that frequented the area, the type of people who might work there (fellow ex-cons who just needed a fresh start)—and how he was going to pull this off. Merle thought he had supplied all the correct information, but Amaro asked him about a billion more questions. He had no answers to the questions Amaro was asking, and he stammered, the tips of his ears going red with embarrassment.

"I do like the second chance program you're offering, but I don't trust you, Merle. Trust is the key to businesses and partnerships. And what you're telling me about not having any idea what to do if an employee steals money or product, or if you overorder or underorder on a shipment, or if you don't have a successful opening day. Or if you relapse." He rolled his hand and met Merle's eyes, all business. "It doesn't warm the heart. If you fail that very first day, we'll have to keep the lights on, and the door open somehow."

Merle was silent, gritting his teeth together.

"There are baby steps to opening a business, Merle. It's not all "I know some people" and "I know how alcoholic work". It's about logistics. It's about finances. It's about trust. It's about sweat and blood and reputation. Trust me, I own many businesses, and I know the process very well. I'm not rubbing it in by any means, but I just want you to know that this is a tedious and grueling process." He paused to study the man's face as it grew redder and redder, and he sighed. "I can't work with short-fuse or short-attention span. You have to be focused. You have to be dedicated and presence to every step."

"Amaro, what are you sayin'?" Daryl asked nervously.

"I'm saying no. I have to trust my partners, and I don't trust you, Merle, not yet. Prove to me that you're serious. Prove to me that you want this more than anything, and I will reconsider."

"That's some bullshit." Merle shot up. "Why do I gotta prove anythin' to you?"

"Because that's how the world works. We prove our worth until we're dead, and then other people decide if it's enough." He stood up to match Merle's height. "We are in the real world, Merle. I'm not about to loan you hundreds of thousands of dollars when I don't know the kind of man you are. Not the rumors, not bullshit past facts—the real man you are right here, right now. So, until I feel satisfied that I've met that man, it's a no."

Merle wanted to want to punch him right him the face, but he couldn't. He very much understood what Amaro was asking, and he knew he could do it. He knew if he really wanted to stay on the straight and narrow there was no other path. He had to do this. He had to prove himself to yet another person, but this person was willing to accept whatever face Merle showed him, not the false one he wore like a badge of honor. He wanted the man underneath all of that, and Merle wasn't sure he was worthy, but he had to try. He had never given much thought to anything in his entire life, simply lived day to day, but he was getting up there in age. It was time to mature. It was long overdue, in fact.

Daryl didn't like how quite his brother was being. He knew anything could come flying out of his brother's mouth, but he was being thoughtful about it. He was thinking those words over, and he didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He hoped it wasn't going to break out into a fight, because Amaro was his boss and friend, and he didn't want to have to pick sides. He cared for them both, so he said a silent word in hopes this ended well, and suddenly his brother's fists unclenched, his jaw loosened, and he nodded.

"All right then." He held his hand out once more. "I'll show you what kind of man I am."

Amaro grinned and clapped his hand into Merle's. "I look forward to meeting that man, Merle."