AN: Here we go, another chapter here.

This one is Milton and Andrea, but if you haven't guessed yet, Milton has a somewhat important role to figuring out some of the things you want to know about the government of our new location. There's plenty more to come though.

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

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"So you just picked me and now I'm supposed to have your child?" Andrea asked.

"Children," Milton said. "But not right away. I mean—not at once. It's really not that simple."

"You're lucky I can understand some pretty complicated things," Andrea responded. "And you've got all night to explain them to me."

Trapping Milton really wasn't that hard. Andrea had pretty much gone with the "hands on" strategy and simply backed him into the chair in the living room. The back to the chair and the arms on either side built enough of a cage that he wasn't going anywhere—because he wouldn't dare to come toward Andrea.

Milton looked like he was having a difficult time swallowing, but other than that he was unharmed. And it was Milton, not actually Andrea, who was creating his swallowing problem.

Andrea waited him out a moment, sitting in the chair she'd brought for herself from the table—all the while daring Milton to move, but it was pretty clear that Milton had chosen silence as his plan of attack.

"Milton, I'm not letting you move from this spot until you tell me what I need to know," Andrea said.

"I can't do that," Milton said.

"So I'm just supposed to have your children and you're never supposed to talk to me? That's how it's supposed to work?" Andrea asked. She sat back in her chair and rethought her strategy. Strong-arming Milton would work for some things. However, it wasn't going to work for forcing him to speak—not unless she was willing to actually torture him, which she wasn't. "Milton—I am not an animal," Andrea said, softening her tone. "I'm not. I'm every bit as human as you are. But right now? I couldn't feel more like an animal if they stripped me down naked, tied me up, and dragged me out to the town square or whatever to observe that I was being covered correctly."

Milton's expression changed a little. There was something there beyond the fear with which he normally regarded her. He sat forward a little, though not enough to suggest he was actually entering her space. He was simply changing his position, willingly, so that his neck wouldn't continue to be strained.

"I know you're not an animal," Milton said. "That's why you're here."

"Tell me why I'm here," Andrea said.

Milton still seemed to be struggling to swallow a little, and he kept turning his eyes away from hers like he was looking for an escape, but he was visibly relaxing a little.

"I can't tell you everything," Milton said. "Not yet."

"When can you tell me everything?" Andrea asked. "If not yet? When?"

"When I'm sure that you're part of it," Milton said. "When I know—I won't be looking for someone else."

Andrea sat there. Her stomach rolled. He didn't have to say it. Not with any exact words. She understood it without his putting voice to it. He couldn't tell her much until he knew that she was in this—that they were in this together. And that wasn't going to happen until they were actually working on the so-called project of creating new citizens or whatever it was that they were expected to do.

"Why me?" Andrea asked. Milton just stared at her. "Why did you pick me?" Andrea asked, clarifying her question a little.

Milton shook his head gently.

"You were the right one," he said.

"So you did know before I was put in that line up?" Andrea asked.

Milton nodded.

"Have I seen you before?" Andrea asked. He shook his head.

"No," he said. "But I've seen you. It's more than that."

"What can you tell me?" Andrea asked. "I'm not saying I'll do it and I'm not saying I won't—but what can you tell me? You work for this thing, right? This—project?"

Milton took his time, but he continued to visibly relax. And as he visibly relaxed, he avoided her eyes less and less. She could wait him out. She had nothing but time. Finally, it seemed that her waiting paid off because Milton decided to speak to her again.

"I'm involved in Wave Thirty Three," Milton said. "Along with some other projects. It's important. It's an assimilation project that ties into a larger field of current research."

"It's a breeding project," Andrea said blankly.

Milton hesitated.

"Among other things," he finally agreed, his voice losing some of its strength near the end.

"Because the wilds outnumber the non-wilds?" Andrea asked.

Milton nodded, but it wasn't a definitive nod. It wasn't entirely true. There was more to the story—more she may or may not get out of him.

"We're not wild, Milton," Andrea said. "None of us are. We're human beings. We never stopped being human beings just because—we gave up hot water and regular meals to survive. There were people out there—people who were worse than the Dead, even—but they weren't wild. They were cruel and they were...were cold-hearted. They were ungoverned and..." She broke off because she wasn't even sure how to explain some of the people that she and Michonne had encountered while they were "out there" in the "wild". Andrea sucked in a breath and shook her head at Milton. "But they weren't wild. They weren't animals. Not really."

"All human beings are animals," Milton said flatly.

"Fair enough," Andrea said. "All human beings are animals. But some human beings are treating other human beings like exhibits at the zoo—and that's not OK."

"That's why I agreed to work with the project," Milton said. "That's why Wave Thirty Three has to be a success."

"Why?" Andrea asked, stressing the word. "You can tell me. I don't talk to anyone. I don't see anyone. You can tell me and I can't tell anyone. What's really going on here?"

Milton shook his head at her.

"I can't tell you anything else," he said. "Not yet. Not until I know."

Andrea chewed her lip. Whether he was sworn to secrecy or simply had some strong moral code surrounding what he would and wouldn't talk about when it came to the project, those were the most confident words that Milton had said. He wasn't going to tell her everything she needed to know. Not until he was sure that she was working with him—whatever that might mean.

"Am I part of the project?" Andrea asked.

Milton hesitated.

"Among other things," Milton said.

"At least tell me why," Andrea said. "At least tell me why—I'm the one that you picked. Was there a reason or—did you just pick me out of a pile of mugshots?"

"Everyone chosen for the project was selected for a reason," Milton said.

"So I'm the same as everyone else?" Andrea asked. "Just—just picked out for whatever secret reasons these were?" She got a nod. "So you can—trade me out for anyone here? Throw me back in the pond and pick someone else?" She got something that was a distant cousin to a shake of the head. Milton looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. In fact, Andrea considered whether or not she might move to keep him from throwing up on her. He choked it down, though, even if he didn't speak. "You picked me. For you. Why?" Andrea pressed.

"The possibilities had to be—paired down," Milton said. "You've had a child before, so we knew it was possible."

"That's hundreds of women," Andrea said. "Thousands."

"You were L.C. classified," Milton said.

"What does Late Capture status have to do with it?" Andrea asked.

"Late Capture," Milton mused, almost as though he'd never heard the words spoken. "Newest. Least tamed. The closest to being purely wild that we can come and still know that..."

"That?" Andrea pressed when he dropped off.

"That there's some recognition of civilization," Milton said. "Anyone too far gone is disposed of."

"And yet you were ready to piss your pants, Milton, when I told you to sit down," Andrea said. "Why would you want someone that you believe to be as close to wild as is possible without being too far gone? Why would you choose that? To live with you?"

Milton audibly swallowed and Andrea considered getting him water. She was a little nervous, though, that he might bolt if she did. Since she wasn't planning on actually putting her hands on him, she didn't want him leaving the place he was currently trapped. She might not get him back for at least another day.

"It wasn't about me," Milton said. "It's about what's best for the project. And—in turn—what's best for everyone. What's best for the whole society."

"For science?" Andrea asked.

"Among other things," Milton said. Andrea was learning it was his go-to response to keep from fully answering. It was his way of saying she was "warm" but she wasn't "hot". There were pieces she was missing—pieces he wasn't going to give her.

"So I've had a baby," Andrea said. "And I'm a Late Capture. There were others that fit that. What's the rest of the criteria for me?"

"You're intelligent," Milton said. "You're—not like me. You stand up to them, but not so much that you got yourself eliminated."

"Challenging?" Andrea asked. She got a semi-nod. "And?"

"There was a certain amount of consideration paid to other desirable and inheritable traits," Milton said. "But in the interest of the project? Those could be overlooked."

Andrea laughed to herself. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Is that Milton's way of saying I'm pretty?" Andrea asked.

His eyes darted off. It was confirmation enough for the moment.

Andrea sucked in a breath and looked around too. Milton was looking for an escape route. Andrea was looking for some kind of answer—something to help her figure out what she was doing here. There was nothing written on the walls, though, to help her, despite what she might think by watching Milton's eyes.

"If I were to have a baby," Andrea said. "Would they take it away from you? Would you take it away from me?" Milton stared at her, brows furrowed. "Would anyone take it away from me?"

"No," Milton said confidently. "No. That's not—my intention. That's not anyone's attention. I suppose that—if there were a reason to..."

"But it's not part of the project?" Andrea asked. He shook his head at her. At least it was a true shake and not one of the ones that left her feeling like she was missing large chunks of information.

She nodded her acceptance and sat back in her chair. She crossed her arms across her chest.

"You're saying that I'm more important here than other people?" Andrea asked. "That it's more important if I have a baby than anyone else?"

"Wave Thirty Three is an assimilation project," Milton said. "Reproduction and citizen rearing are at the core of the project."

"I get it," Andrea said, interrupting him. "It's a breeding project and everyone needs to breed. But—you're saying that I'm somehow—more important because you chose me?"

"I'm more important," Milton said blankly.

"Touché," Andrea responded. "You can't tell me everything now. You've told me that much. When can you tell me?"

"When I'm sure," Milton said.

"And that's when?" Andrea asked. "Do the lines just have to appear or—are we talking I don't know anything until the umbilical cord is cut? Give me a timeline, Milton."

"When I'm sure," he repeated.

Andrea sucked her teeth. He'd apparently rehearsed with himself something like this. Maybe he'd expected some kind of hostile takeover. After all, he was voluntarily living with someone as close to completely wild as was possible in captivity. Andrea leaned forward.

"Do you know where babies come from, Milton?" Andrea asked. He gave her a confused look and she wasn't entirely certain if it was because of the question itself or if it was in response to the fact that he didn't know the answer to the question. "Because—if I'm going to be pregnant? You've got to put the proverbial lime in the coconut so I can shake it up. Do you understand?" He writhed a little in his seat. Andrea was almost certain that Milton had never done what she was proposing—and he didn't look like he was exactly chomping at the bit to get down to business. "It's not the most exciting thing on my to-do list either," Andrea offered. "I can promise you that but—something's going to have to happen. Because that's just how this works. For me to get pregnant? I've got half the necessary components, but I'm going to need what you've got too."

Milton nodded and Andrea almost laughed at his expression. If she'd sentenced him to death he might not have appeared so uncomfortable.

"Unless," Andrea offered, "you're open to some suggestions. Alternative methods? Because—I might have a few ideas."