AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

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

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"I haven't seen you in at least a year," the doctor said.

He looked genuinely happy to see Carol and she smiled at him and embraced him. He looked at Daryl and offered him a smile and a hand.

"Michael Janson," he said. "Michael, please."

"Daryl," Daryl responded. "Dixon. But—Daryl."

"Doctor Janson—Michael— comes to the Kingdom sometimes," Carol said. "Treats everyone who needs something."

"Where is the King?" Michael asked.

"He's at the Kingdom," Daryl offered.

He didn't miss the expression that crossed the doctor's face, but he didn't care, either. His greatest concern was watching Carol's face to judge how she was handling everything. Her anxiety was rising faster than the temperature in an oven. Daryl could practically feel it.

"OK, then," Michael said, clasping his hands together. "Jesus tells me that—you're here for an ultrasound?"

"Yeah," Carol said. She nodded her head and Daryl felt in his back pocket to make sure that the handkerchief he'd stuffed in his pocket that morning hadn't fallen out somewhere. She looked like she might need it already, and he had a feeling it would only become more necessary.

"A prenatal ultrasound," Michael said. "Just to be clear."

"Yeah," Carol agreed.

"Does that mean that I'm correct in assuming you'd like a full prenatal exam?" He asked. Carol nodded again. "Great! Congratulations! That's excellent—it's not every day I get the privilege of talking about new lives. If you'd like to—go ahead and undress? I'll wash my hands. We're low on gloves, but I do keep everything as sanitary as absolutely possible. Those gowns are clean. And the sheets. The gowns tie in the back, but you won't need to close it for now. You can take a seat on the table." He looked at Daryl and cleared his throat. "Carol might like a little privacy."

Daryl looked at Carol to verify this. She looked like she might like a drink. She looked like she might like a Xanax. She looked like she might even appreciate an oxygen mask. She didn't really look like she was all that concerned about her privacy since she was already working on the button and zipper of her pants.

"You want me to leave?" Daryl asked.

"I want you to stay," Carol said. "I want—him to stay. He's—he's the baby's father and…I'd like him to stay."

"Oh," Michael said. He was already scrubbing his hands and, from the expression on his face, it was clear that he was no more up-to-date than anyone else at the Hilltop. Of course, he had no reason to be.

"It's complicated," Daryl offered. "But—there's no bad blood."

"I'm not here to judge anyone," Michael said. "And whatever makes Carol comfortable, makes me comfortable."

"Could I—talk to you about that?" Daryl asked. "Just—for just like a minute? Maybe while she's—puttin' on one of them gowns or something? Before we get goin' or whatever?"

"I'll just," Michael started rinsing his hands. "I can just do this…when we get back. If you don't mind, Carol?"

"I don't mind," she said. She offered Daryl a tight-lipped smile. He knew that kind of smile. He patted her shoulder.

"Be right back," he said. As soon as Michael's hands were dry, he followed him outside the little trailer that Michael called his office. The buzz of the generator would mask most of their conversation, at least. "Listen—I know you don't need our whole story and you don't care about it," Daryl said as soon as the door was closed. He kept his voice low so that they wouldn't catch the attention of anyone wandering around and their words wouldn't drift back in to Carol when the generator failed to mask them. "Suffice it to say that—that woman in there is just another patient to you. Queen of the Kingdom or whatever. But she's the only woman that—that I ever cared for like…like I do. And Ezekiel knows that. And she's scared. But scared don't even begin to cover it. Terrified. Like—nightmares and she's not sleeping."

"She's having the nightmares again?" Michael asked.

"You know about that?" Daryl asked.

"I've treated her before," Michael said. "For—a variety of things."

Daryl's stomach twisted. Ezekiel would probably know that already. He was just learning it.

"Point is, they back. And—I just want this to be good for her. She deserves that."

Michael laughed to himself.

"I don't know what you…"

"I want you to be nice to her," Daryl said. "Take your time with her."

"I don't have any other patients at the moment," Michael assured him.

"She wants to see the baby," Daryl said. "Hear its heart. Know if it's a boy or a girl. I'm not askin' you to lie or work miracles—but if you can work miracles?"

Michael nodded his head.

"I understand," he said. "Let's go have a look, shall we? There may be no need for miracles. It could be that this is already the miracle you're after."

Daryl nodded at Michael and followed him back inside the unit. Carol sat on the table wearing a cloth hospital gown. Daryl could feel her anxiety across the room. When Michael returned to washing his hands, Daryl walked over and put his arm around Carol. He rubbed his palm across her bare back and kneaded a few muscles to bring her just a little relaxation.

"You OK?" Daryl asked.

Carol looked at him. She gave him the nervous, tight-lipped smile again and nodded her head.

"Yeah," she said. He offered her the handkerchief and she shook her head. "You keep it. For now. I guess—you didn't expect to see me for…for this kind of thing." She directed her words to Michael. There was a tremor in her voice. She worried about his approval, or something like that, and Daryl hoped he answered her in a satisfactory way.

Michael finished what he was doing at the sink. He came over carrying several things and Daryl stepped to the side to give him some room. The first thing he did was offer Carol a thermometer which she accepted under her tongue, and then he silently asked for her arm to introduce it into a blood pressure cuff.

"I'm always happy to see anyone for something good," Michael said. "And I consider a new life wonderful news these days." He released the air in the cuff and removed it from Carol's arm before he rubbed his stethoscope on his hand and pulled down Carol's gown enough to press it to her chest. Rather than pretend she was trying to retain some kind of privacy, Carol simply slipped her arms out of the sleeves and let it puddle in her lap. "Are you OK with that?" Michael asked. Carol hummed in the affirmative. "Can you inhale for me? Deep breath. Let it out. Again." He worked his fingers lightly over various spots on her body and asked permission before he tested out every inch of her breasts with his fingertips. "Tender?" He asked.

"A little bit," Carol said.

"It's to be expected," Michael said.

"I know," Carol said. "They're growing, too, a little. Anything else that you…that I should know about? So far?" Carol asked.

"Everything seems fine," Michael said. "You're going to stay with us for—a couple of days?"

"A day," Carol said.

"I want to check your blood pressure a few times," Michael said. "Randomly. Just—when I show up that's all I'll want from you. OK? It's a lot, lot higher than I'd like it to be, but…I'm hoping that's just nerves. Are you nervous? OK—can you take some deep breaths for me? Breathe with me? In…in…in…out…"

Carol didn't have to answer the man because it was clear that she was moments away from a panic attack if she wasn't already having one. Her blood pressure, it seemed, had pushed her too far in the direction that she was already heading. She didn't fight the man, though. Instead, she did breathe with him. She did what he asked of her and she calmed. He stood there, with his hand on her shoulder, for a few solid minutes before he spoke to her again. Daryl was grateful, too, that he was taking his time with her as Daryl had requested.

"Your blood pressure is high," Michael said, his tone even. "Your pulse is erratic. But none of that means anything right now, OK? You can put your gown back on and just pull it to the side for me. OK? Can you lie back?"

Carol nodded at him and she did lie back. She reached a hand out in Daryl's direction, and he stepped somewhat behind the table so that he could hold her hand without feeling like he was impeding Michael's movements in any way. She squeezed his fingers and Daryl squeezed hers back—a silent communication of solidarity.

The first thing Michael did was unfold one of the thin sheets and drape it over Carol's lower body. Then he gently probed her belly with some interest. Carol squeezed Daryl's hand at intervals while Michael examined her.

"Are you having any pain?" Michael asked.

"No," Carol breathed out.

"Cramping or any blood at all? Contractions?"

"No," Carol repeated. "Why is—something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong that I can tell," Michael said. "Can you scoot down? All the way to the end? I'm going to help you put your feet in the stirrups."

"I know the drill," Carol said.

She did move, and Michael helped her get situated. He left her a moment and washed his hands again before returning with a bottle and a glove. Daryl watched as he examined Carol. There wasn't much to see, of course, because he allowed her to keep the sheet that earned her a little privacy, so Daryl focused more on Carol's face than anything as she searched the ceiling of the trailer after being instructed to relax and breathe a few times with the rhythm assigned to her. Daryl took his handkerchief and dabbed at a few of the drops of saltwater that had appeared around her eyes without drawing attention to what he was doing.

Michael walked to the sink again to wash his hands before he returned.

"Your cervix is fine," Michael said. "Everything looks good so far."

"Like it's all fine?" Daryl asked.

"So far, I'd say that everything's just fine," Michael said. He switched on his machine. "And now that some of the uncomfortable part is over, what do you say we see how things are going with your baby? You can scoot back, if you want. Get comfortable. Relax."

Carol did change her position, but she immediately searched out Daryl's hand. He kept his spot at the back of the table to give Michael plenty of room, but he returned his hand to Carol and he moved enough to the side to offer her a quick kiss on the forehead—for which she looked genuinely thankful. She was breathing, and she wasn't in the midst of an active and hysterical panic attack, but Daryl could tell that it wouldn't take much to tip her over any edge.

Daryl couldn't complain about Michael, though. He seemed to be handling her the best way he could. There was nothing that Daryl could really expect him to do differently.

When Michael had everything ready, he squirted some kind of clear goo on Carol's stomach and apologized to her about it being cold. If it was cold, though, she hadn't made any complaint.

"Let's see—what we can see, OK?" Michael said.

"I already told Daryl not to be bothered if…if we can't really see much or if…if it doesn't look much like a baby," Carol offered.

"Oh, we should be able to see some things," he said. "And it should look at least a little bit like a baby judging from the position of your uterus."

"Is that bad?" Daryl asked, wishing he'd paid a bit more attention to these things before the world had gone to shit—but he'd never imagined himself in this position, exactly. "Where her…uterus is…positioned? Is it bad?"

"No," Michael said. "I assure you; her uterus is positioned right where it should be." He was focused on the screen as he moved the wand around Carol's belly. Daryl watched the screen and held Carol's hand. She tensed and Daryl immediately saw what she saw. "And there's your baby."

"Holy shit," Daryl said before he even really realized the words were going to actually escape his mouth. "It looks like a real baby. Holy shit…it looks…I expected like…an alien like…a blob or…you don't know what the hell it is but…it looks like a baby."

Carol let go of his hand as Daryl moved closer to Michael and the screen to get a slightly better look at the baby. It was dark. It was grainy. It wasn't Kodak quality, but it was a real baby. Daryl felt like, if he stared at the screen long enough, he could probably make out distinctive features. Daryl might have considered that it was some trick with the machine—a picture and not a real baby at all—but then the whole screen jumped.

"Oh…it moved," Michael said. "Rolled away. Let's see if we can catch a good profile again, like the one we had. Did you feel it move, Carol? That was a pretty dramatic roll."

"No," Carol said. "No—I mean—I don't think I did. I feel some…something in there. Some stirring. But…"

"But she ain't wanted to get her hopes up," Daryl supplied.

"Well you're welcome to get your hopes up," Michael said. "Because baby—is it baby Dixon?" Michael looked at Daryl and Daryl stared at Carol. It was Carol that hummed and nodded. Daryl felt her fingertips searching his out—reaching for his arm and trying to pull his hand closer to her. He moved back closer to her and gave her his hand. "Baby Dixon is an active little one. Either that or…it could be shy. Doesn't want us to take some pictures. There you go. We found it again."

"It's sucking it's thumb!" Carol declared loudly.

Daryl looked at her, rather than the baby, for a moment. She sounded absolutely thrilled. He'd heard genuine happiness in her declaration. Her eyes were absolutely flooded with tears. A few of them were on her lashes and some had puddled on her face. But they weren't the kind he'd rush to try to wipe away because, for just a moment, she looked as happy as he'd ever seen her before with her face locked on the screen. He'd give Michael anything to take his time and let her have just a little longer of this.

And Michael must have known, because he made no effort to end the show or change the subject.

"It sure is," he agreed. "I don't think that's a thumb. But fingers at least. Maybe it's shy and…it knows we're here now. So, it's sucking its thumb or fingers to feel a little better."

Carol pulled Daryl's hand to her and kissed it. She was happily wringing his hand to the point where it felt like she might twist his arm off, but he let her have it.

"Daryl—our baby likes its fingers. Just like you," Carol said. She sounded delighted, and Daryl laughed to himself to mostly combat the sudden tightening in his chest. "It's nervous and it likes its fingers…"

"It's cute," Daryl said. "But—I don't wanna scare it. If it's nervous…"

Michael laughed to himself.

"It'll be fine," he assured Daryl. "I do want to take a few measurements—if you don't mind?"

"As long as we can watch," Carol said.

"They may not be as exciting as the profile views," Michael said.

"Is that sound the heartbeat?" Daryl asked.

"That sound, currently, is the mixture of a number of sounds," Michael said. "Carol's heartbeat, baby's heartbeat, and the movement of fluids in Carol's body. In just a moment—I'll isolate the baby's heartbeat so I can check it anyway."

"Can you tell—what it is?" Carol asked.

"You want to know?" He asked. "You're sure?"

"We want to know," Carol said.

"It's never—absolute," Michael said. "Mistakes happen. But it's pretty clear…"

"How clear?" Daryl asked.

"I'm ninety-seven percent certain I'm right," Michael said. "That you have a baby girl."

Daryl's heart felt like it stopped for a moment. He felt like he was the one who needed careful instruction on how to breathe in and out and what to do with himself. It hit him harder than he would have believed it might.

Suddenly, the image on the screen wasn't just a trick of the machine. It wasn't just a grainy sort-of image of a baby that moved and sucked its imaginary fingers and possibly tried to hide from the prying eyes of its parents and doctor.

Suddenly that baby was a real baby. It was a real baby that he'd created with Carol.

That baby was Baby Dixon. That baby was their daughter. Their daughter who kicked and rolled around and sucked her fingers and hid because she was every bit as nervous as her mother, or she felt every bit as shy as her father often felt when people were watching.

"Daryl?" Carol asked. It pulled him back and he realized she was looking at him. She was working his hand in hers. "Daryl—it's a girl. Did you hear? It's a baby girl."

"I heard," Daryl said. His heart was thundering and his stomach ached.

"Are you disappointed?" Carol asked. Her brow furrowed and something replaced the bliss that had been there. Immediately, Daryl's chest seized up and he did the only thing that his brain told him to do. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. He lingered there a moment, and then he straightened up and squeezed her hand.

"I'm not disappointed," he assured her. "It's exactly what I wanted."

And even though he hadn't really thought about it before, he still knew that he was telling the truth.

"Measurements look good," Michael said. "I'm estimating you're at somewhere around your twentieth week. She's measuring a little small, but that's nothing to be terribly worried about. Her fetal weight is a little lower than I'd like it to be."

Daryl's stomach practically wrenched.

"Can we fix that?" He asked. "How do we—fix it?"

Michael looked at him and nodded his head.

"You can absolutely fix it," he said. "It means that—Carol needs to eat good, balanced meals. Maybe things have just been a little light?"

"I've been really sick," Carol said. "Really sick. For most of my pregnancy."

"That hurt the baby?" Daryl asked. Carol squeezed his hand. "It's—she's hurt?"

"She's not hurt. Nothing is wrong," Michael said, drawing his words out a little. "Nothing that I can see at least. Let's hear the heartbeat and we'll talk a bit more, OK? There you go…there's her heartbeat."

"It's fast," Daryl said, immediately concerned. "She scared or—sick or somethin'?"

"Her heartbeat is perfectly normal," Michael sound. "It sounds strong and it's just fast enough for this point in gestation." He moved the wand, ending the show, and went about cleaning up Carol and the equipment. Daryl held Carol's hand in his own, working it as he did so.

"So, she's healthy?" Daryl asked. "Or she ain't?"

"Carol or the baby?" Michael said.

"The answer I wanna hear is the same for both," Daryl said. "But—you already said Carol's alright so…the baby."

"OK—I won't sugarcoat this because I think you both would benefit from absolute honesty more than anything. Honestly sometimes soothes anxiety better than people think. Carol's blood pressure is extremely high," Michael said. "At the moment, her blood pressure is dangerously high. Her pulse is erratic and her body temperature is a little more elevated than I would like it to be. All of these things can be caused by her environment. They can be temporary and they can be caused by stress, so my prescription for that is—be available for the next day or so. I'll stop in and see you. Let's see if we can't get some more positive readings on Carol. And rest. Relax. For your health and your baby's health. Carol—you can start getting dressed, if you'd like."

Carol nodded and started to sit up, but Daryl could feel that she was shaking. Moving intensified it, so he moved to help her make the transition slowly to give herself time to relax.

"With all due respect," Carol said, "I'd relax better if—I knew the baby was alright."

"Your baby is fine," Michael said. "As far as I can tell, your baby is fine. You don't need to worry. In fact, your worry may be more detrimental to her than just letting nature take its course."

"You sound concerned, though," Daryl said. "Not like—like everything's perfect."

Michael sighed. He was done cleaning up, and he leaned against his counter to face them. Daryl brought Carol her clothes so that she could start dressing. He helped her dress since the shaking was taking its time getting under control.

He was certain, too, that Michael could see it. It might be an added reason for the frown and the crease between the man's eyebrows.

"Carol is a geriatric pregnancy," Michael said.

"That's a shit thing to say!" Daryl said quickly.

"Daryl…" Carol said.

"Neither one of us is that damn old," Daryl pointed out.

"A geriatric pregnancy is any woman over thirty-five," Michael offered. "It means that there are higher risks for things to go wrong, but it doesn't necessarily mean that things will go wrong. Ideally? I'd like to see you eat a few more balanced meals. I'd like to see you relax. Those are the most important things but, more than anything, I want you to relax. Take it easy. Maybe I'd like to see you a few more times to monitor your progress."

"I'd like to talk to you about that," Daryl said. "If you've got the time…"

"I've got plenty of time," Michael said. "As your doctor, Carol, this is just my wish list."

"I can do all that," Carol said. "But it's hard to…relax."

"Well I'd like you to really give it a try," Michael said. "We'll talk about it a bit more later. When I find you to take your blood pressure again. In the meantime—try to relax a little. Enjoy the fact that, as far as I can see? You're a strong, able-bodied woman. Your body is responding very, very well to this pregnancy. It shows all the signs of preparing for the long haul. You have a daughter that is very active and looks very healthy. Focus on that. Focus on being still and quiet and feeling her move. Focus on whatever you need to focus on to take the edge off. Because—aside from a few really good meals? That's going to be the best thing you can give her."

Carol nodded her head and Daryl swallowed against the knot in his stomach. He didn't say anything, though. Instead he helped Carol dress and he stood with her until the shaking had subsided. A few deep breaths and she seemed to have it under control. Daryl thoroughly thanked Michael for all he'd done so far, and Carol hugged him sincerely. When Carol assured him that she was fine, and she might like to go for a walk and stretch her legs around Hilltop—she might like to see some old faces—Daryl asked Michael for a few minutes of his time. Michael offered Carol two photos of their daughter's profile and set her free from the trailer to go in search of Tara or anyone else who might like to see the proof that they had created a daughter. She looked, for a moment, ready to handle whatever might happen, so Daryl wasn't too concerned about letting her go for the time being.

Daryl waited until they were alone to bend Michael's ear about the move to the Kingdom and to tell him about his personal concerns. He never mentioned, in front of Carol, the fact that he worried because he knew Carol and relaxation might be the best thing for the baby, but it was going to be the hardest thing for her mother.