AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Once Daryl relaxed a little, he felt more confident about holding the tiny little bundle in his arms. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed content to sleep right where she was. Daryl glanced at Carol. In the bed, she'd closed her eyes and her head had lolled to the side already. Daryl stayed, standing where he was, for a moment longer—looking back and forth between mother and daughter. The sight made him feel like his heart might actually blow up in his chest, but in the best way he could possibly imagine.

Carol had been devastated by the loss of Sophia. She'd been such a good Mama—always looking out for the little girl and willing to do anything she could to protect her from anything, even things she really wasn't capable, at the time, of fighting off.

Losing her daughter had nearly broken her. And, if he was being honest, it had nearly broken Daryl, too. He'd wanted very little in life more than he wanted to bring Sophia back to Carol.

Their baby girl wasn't Sophia, and she would never take Sophia's place, but Carol's arms would be full again, and so would her heart—even if there was always a part that would remain somewhat shattered.

Holding the tiny thing, Daryl knew that he'd do anything he had to do to make sure that the baby grew and had a good life. He'd do anything that he had to do to make sure that Carol never had to suffer losing her.

He didn't want to lose her, either, and they'd only really just met.

When Daryl was satisfied that Carol would honor his wishes and sleep just a little to build up her strength—for the baby's sake if for nothing else—he eased toward the bedroom door with the infant. He almost felt like he'd committed some crime and was running away with some precious treasure. Rose was a precious treasure, he supposed, and the thought made him smile.

"Daryl?" Carol said, her voice already giving evidence of the proximity of sleep.

"Hmmm?"

"Where are you going?"

"Just in here to give you some quiet," Daryl said. "Please don't make me beg you to sleep, OK? I'ma ask you that as nice as I can. You need your strength, Carol. For her if for nobody else. She's gonna need you, an' you gotta sleep. Please don't make me beg you."

"I'm going to sleep," Carol said quietly. "Only…"

"What is it?" Daryl asked when she broke off. "You need somethin'?"

"If she needs to nurse…"

"I'll wake you," Daryl assured her. "If she needs you, I promise I'll wake you. You just get what sleep you can 'fore then, OK?"

"Daryl?"

Daryl did his best to control the sigh of frustration that nearly escaped him.

"Hmmm?"

"I love you," Carol said.

Daryl immediately regretted his frustration. He felt the familiar warmth in his chest and the funny little quiver in his gut that often came when he heard Carol speak those words—especially when they were unsolicited.

"I love you, too, woman," he assured her. "Get some sleep."

She didn't say anything else. Daryl didn't turn back to look at her, but he did hear her adjusting herself in the bed. He eased out of the bedroom door, and he closed the door carefully behind him. He walked carefully, nervous about jarring the brand-new baby. She didn't seem to mind his movement, though, or even the heavy step of his boots. He carried her to the nursery, and he eased down into the rocking chair. It was a comfortable rocking chair, and Daryl sunk back into it and began rocking it with his foot.

"Rose Marie Dixon," Daryl said out loud, tasting the words on his tongue and seeing what it sounded like to his ears. It was the first time he said it, and it seemed strange to think that it was a new name, hardly ever uttered in the world, but soon it would be one of the most familiar sounds he'd ever heard. He smiled to himself. "Baby girl," he offered out loud, the more familiar name almost like a balm to the anxiety that he'd collected throughout the day.

With the baby sleeping safely in his arms, and Carol sleeping safely in the other room, Daryl realized how exhausted he was. He'd done hardly nothing—all things considered—but he was tired. His muscles ached from tension and stress. Daryl sunk happily into the chair and reached over, rifling through a basket of baby odds and ends that was on the table and ready for Rose's arrival. There was nothing much to hold his interest there, but there were things that the baby would need.

Daryl turned his attention back to the sleeping baby. He saw her, eyes barely open, staring at him through slits. She was neither entirely dedicated to sleeping, it seemed, nor to staying awake. She was teetering somewhere in the world between the two.

"Hey sweetheart," Daryl offered, smiling at the baby. "You playin' possum. I see you. I don't know—if you remember me or…really recognize me, but…I'm gonna be your Daddy. There's a whole long story behind that…but I ain't gonna tell you the whole thing right now. Not while you're little. When you get grown, we'll tell it all to you. I don't guess it all matters too much for now, though. You wouldn't understand most of it since you just got here." The baby opened her eyes wider like she might dedicate herself to staying awake, and then she closed them tight again before she relaxed her lids once more and yawned.

Daryl hefted her body, gently. He paid attention to it—to the way that it felt when he lifted her. He lowered her, and he burrowed a tiny hand out of the bundle her mother had made of her. She had perfect little fingers—tiny—and she curled them around the fingertip that he offered her. She flexed her fingers, and then she curled them tight again.

"I love you," Daryl whispered to her. He couldn't help but smile. It was true. He did love her. In some ways, he'd only just met her, but he knew it to be true. He loved her already. He loved her and he loved Carol until he felt nearly ready to burst from the feelings alone. "Your Mama's done gone through an' checked you for all your parts. I saw you when you were gettin' washed up. When Melodye washed you up. You got everything just right. You're absolutely perfect. I'm guessin'—liftin' you up? There's hardly anything to you. I'd say you weigh like five pounds, maybe. Don't worry, though, your Mama's gonna feed you every time you want it. Before long, you'll be puttin' on the weight and really fillin' out."

She opened her eyes to him again. She looked almost angry. Her little brow furrowed. Daryl smiled in response to her expression.

"Why you look so pissed?" He asked. "I'm not talkin' too loud. Is it still too loud for you?" He lowered his voice just a little, but it didn't seem to make much of a difference. He kept talking because it gave him something to do and kept him awake—because he felt, more and more, like he could sleep right where he was. "You used to like it when I talked to you. Do you remember that or—does somethin' happen when you get born and you suddenly can't remember what came before?" She didn't respond, of course. Daryl wasn't an idiot, and he didn't expect her to respond. He didn't really expect her to comprehend what he was saying, either, but he figured that if she'd like being talked to once upon a time, maybe she did now—and if she didn't, it wasn't really upsetting her too much.

"You're probably tired because you've had a hell of a day, right? I mean—the whole gettin' born thing's gotta be rough. Now you can stretch out, though. You couldn't do that before. Not all the way. I remember when you used to try to stretch out and it would look like you was givin' your Mama hell. I could see you pushin' against her like you would bust right outta her skin. It looked like some scary ass shit, sometimes. I ain't gonna lie. Looked like you had to be hurtin' her. She tolerated it, though. Said she liked it. Said it meant you were big, and strong, and coming. You're not real big, but you do look pretty strong. And you're here now, so…you got that part covered."

She squirmed a little. She stretched her body, perhaps thanks to his suggestion. And then she screwed her face up and, slowly, Daryl watched as the screwed up little face seemed to shatter into the first hiccupping cries.

The soft little cries—like threats—amused Daryl. He plucked a pacifier from the basket on the little table next to his chair and poked the nipple into her mouth.

"Here," he said, "put'cha plug in."

For a minute, she tried to spit it out. She pushed her tongue against it and tried to push it right back at Daryl. He held it, though, in place. After a second, she seemed to accept it. Then she relaxed in his arm and she sucked it. It looked large for her face, but she seemed satisfied. Daryl watched it, practically hypnotized, as it moved with her sucking. She peered at him from around her pacifier, with eyes a little wider open than before.

"You like suckin' it?" Daryl asked. She didn't answer, of course, but he didn't expect her to. She blinked—or at least he assumed she was blinking—and her eyes seemed to get stuck closed for a second before she forced them open again. "You're a sleepy thing…but I get it. You need like a lot of sleep to grow, and you got a lot of growin' to do. I know you're probably hungry. I know your Mama already let you get a taste of what she's got for you—what she's gonna make up for you, special, to eat. You might even be pissed off that you ain't got that now, but listen to me, we gotta let her sleep OK? Just a little bit. Then she can feed you and sleep some more, but we gotta let her just get a lil' bit of sleep. I don't want her gettin' weak, you know? And I don't want her gettin' sick or nothing. Neither do you. Because then it would just be me an' you, and I won't make none of what she give you to eat…so we'd be doin' pretty bad. Plus—I mean, she's your Mama. You want her around. And I want her around because she's my wife."

Daryl stopped and smiled to himself. He was exhausted. He could feel the heaviness in all his muscles—the desire to sleep. He knew that it came from peace. Overwhelming and complete peace. He'd never felt that kind of all-encompassing peace before. There was always something else to worry about. Right this moment, there was nothing to worry about. Everything was perfect. He almost felt dizzy from the thought of it.

The baby girl in his arms clearly liked being talked to. She'd maintained that memory from her life before birth. She expressed it by letting out some whining sounds around her pacifier as a warning.

"Shhhh," Daryl said, laughing to himself. He rocked her. "Listen—you gotta listen to me. You listenin'? I'ma do whatever you want me to do. Whatever you need me to do, OK? I'ma take such good care of you. But your Mama? She is, too. And—I'ma tell you a secret, OK? Your Mama—she's real happy you're here. I mean, I'm happy you're here, but…Mama happy is a different kinda happy. And your Mama ain't had it easy, but I'll tell you all that later. She's gonna be wantin' to love on you like you can't even imagine, OK? And you need to just—let her. It's good for her. Good for you. All that lovin' is just gonna help you grow. It'll make you stronger and bigger—all of that. You gonna like it. I'm just tellin' you this so you understand, OK, that if you don't see me all the time and all? If I'm just stealin' you when she's gotta sleep some, it ain't nothin' against you, OK? And I'ma be wishin' that I was holdin' you and stuff like that, but…we gotta let her love on you all she wants."

She creased her brows at him. She was probably considering crying again. The rubber nipple was hardly going to hold her long. Daryl could only imagine that it was a poor substitute for the real thing—he'd been fond of sucking the real thing, after all, and he couldn't imagine the rubber ones would be comparable in the least—and it didn't produce anything for the baby to eat, which she'd already learned should come from her sucking.

Daryl shushed her and rocked her gently. He reached his finger up and smoothed it carefully across the soft skin of her forehead. His gentle brushing seemed to soothe her, because she took up sucking again and closed her eyes.

Daryl smiled to himself. He spoke softly to the baby that he was sure was still awake, despite her closed eyes and relaxed features.

"Let's just let her sleep for a little bit longer. And let me just steal a couple more minutes to love on you for the very first time, OK?"