AN: Here we go, another chapter here.

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

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Carol's heart was thundering in her chest and she couldn't have explained it any way other than to say that she was simply nervous. She was nervous that what she wanted to happen wouldn't happen, and she was nervous that it would. Daryl finally came back into the little room and handed off his cup to Alice. Then he walked over to Carol and she extended a hand to him. He moved to take it, but she yanked it back just before he was able to.

"Did you wash your hands?" She asked. She smirked at him when his cheeks turned slightly pink and he looked toward the doctor.

"Of course I washed my damn hands," he said. "Besides—ain't like you ain't...touched it before." Carol laughed to herself and let him take her hand then. He seemed as nervous as she felt and it made her a little more comfortable. At least she wasn't alone. He was usually pretty collected, so she was glad to see that he was at least a little shook up by everything. "This is about the most uncomfortable I can remember being in a while," Daryl commented. "And—I gotta say I've been through some shit."

Carol hummed at him.

"When you're naked from the waist down and you've been spread eagle on a table for half an hour? We'll talk about uncomfortable," Carol said. She didn't miss Alice laughing as she prepared everything.

"You're both almost out of here," Alice said. "And if it makes you feel any better? It's not always a hundred percent comfortable for your doctor." She got herself situated and commanded that Carol relax—something much easier said than done—so that they could get this over with and get them on their way to go home and have a much more pleasant evening. "This is going to be a little cold," Alice said.

"Is this going to hurt?" Carol asked. "Just—tell me. So I can prepare."

"What are your feelings on pap smears?" Alice asked. "Do they hurt?"

"Not the most comfortable thing in the world," Carol said, trying not to look at Daryl and, instead, to focus on the ceiling.

"I'd say hold onto that," Alice said. "It's about the same idea. Only difference is I can't use lubrication because we don't want anything affecting the outcome. Now—once I get started? There's going to be a little cramping. And that could go on for a couple of days. OK? Cramping some spotting—that's normal."

While it wasn't a lie—and it certainly wasn't the most comfortable thing that Carol had ever done—she'd over-prepared because it wasn't the most uncomfortable thing she'd ever done either. She'd prepared for it to take, too, a much longer amount of time than it actually ended up taking. She'd barely even realized that Daryl was rubbing her fingers in his hand—and started to focus on that sensation more than anything else—before Alice told her that it was done and she could put her feet down if she wanted.

"That's it?" Carol asked Alice.

"There's a dance too," Alice said. "But I didn't quite master it so I thought we could skip that part."

"And now I'm pregnant?" Carol asked.

"Now you're on your way to it," Alice responded. "You'll stay here, just like this, for about half an hour and then you can go home. Relax. Spend some time together doing whatever you feel moved to do. In about eight days? I'll run a blood test and we'll find out if we got lucky. Any other questions for me?"

Carol watched as Alice cleaned up and washed her hands in the tight exam room. It was smaller than her "office" which also had an examination table, but it provided a little more privacy.

"No," Carol said. "I don't think I have any. Can I do anything wrong? Anything to—mess it up?"

"Just treat the whole thing like you're pregnant," Alice said. "Don't do anything you wouldn't do while you're pregnant. No drinking or anything like that. Other than that? You can't—shake a baby out. You're not going to. Don't do any heavy lifting and lay off the combat sports. Just go home, be normal—make baby."

Alice laughed at herself and Carol laughed too. Alice directed the same question to Daryl, who was halfway through consuming his thumb from the looks of it, but he shook his head—no, he didn't have any questions. Not yet. There might be some to come.

Since Alice had a number of things to do, and Carol knew she was busy, the woman set a timer for her and told her that she and Daryl could leave when the timer went off. All she'd have to do was pick up the phone and request an escort to take them back home. Carol let her know that she understood, and then she closed her eyes, hoping that imagining positive results for the few minutes that she had to lie there might, somehow, make sure that things were working as they should be.

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Daryl rolled over and eased his way out of the bed. He didn't bother with clothing of any kind as he walked to the bathroom to relieve himself. Carol was asleep. He'd still be napping too if the need to piss hadn't dragged him out of his dreams. When he was done, he washed his hands in their sink and washed his face for good measure. The cool water immediately woke him up a little. They had no reason to go out today. Their dinner was going to be delivered and they were under doctor's orders to relax for the rest of the day. He took himself to the kitchen and got a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. He cracked the top on it and drank half the bottle on his way back to the bedroom. As he eased back into the bed, Carol sat up and let him know that she wasn't as asleep as he'd imagined.

"Can I have some of that?" She asked.

Daryl passed her the bottle without making her even indicate that's what she wanted. He watched her as she sucked down most of what was left. Then, realizing she'd almost drank it all, she stopped and tried to pass it back to him. He shook his head and pushed it back at her.

"Finish it," he said. "There's more if you want it."

"I didn't mean to drink it all," Carol said.

"And I don't care," Daryl responded. "Drink it."

She did finish it, and Daryl put the bottle out of the way before he slid back down into the sheets and turned on his side to face her. She looked at him, a hint of a smile on her face, and he reached his fingers out to stroke the soft curls that hung just at her ears.

"Hair's growing," Daryl said. It wasn't long by any means, but it had grown since he'd first met her—and now it was a mess of silver curls that twisted and twirled in every which direction. She laughed quietly.

"Yours too," she said. "You need a haircut. I guess—I do too."

"Leave it if you want," Daryl said. "But I'ma get mine taken care of. I like yours like this. It's soft."

"It wasn't soft when it was shorter?" Carol asked. She ran a hand through her hair and tugged at her own curls. Daryl shrugged at her.

"Felt the same," he said. "Guess I mean—you just seem softer."

Carol sighed and flopped back on her pillow.

"That's the last thing I want," she said. "To go soft? After everything?"

"Not such a bad thing," Daryl said. "Not if we're safe here."

"But if we're not..." Carol said.

"Cross that bridge when we come to it," Daryl said. "Might be good for you to go a little soft. I mean—if we're having a baby and all? Baby might want to grow—might want to grow in a soft mama, ya know? Just nicer for babies."

Carol laughed to herself.

"You're an expert on it now?" Daryl laughed to himself and hummed. He wasn't an expert at all. He'd never even really been around a pregnant woman. "I don't know that they can tell," Carol said. "I mean plenty of babies were born out there. In the wild? And in Region Thirty Three."

She rolled back on her side to face him and he smirked at her.

"OK," he said. "Maybe then just because I like it? I don't mean you got to change or anything. I wouldn't want you to change. Just—relax. Go where you're already going—but it do without fighting it. Hell, I know I'm feeling softer these days. More relaxed. There ain't not a single soul put their hands on me unless it was you or someone who wanted to slap me, friendly-like, on the shoulder in what's got to be a month. I like it."

Carol licked her lips and Daryl wished he'd brought her another bottle of water. Maybe, if she was busy getting pregnant like they were supposed to be doing, she was extra thirsty. He could see how you might need more water than usual for that.

"I like it too," Carol admitted. "More than I realized I would. Maybe that's the scariest part of thinking it might fall apart. Every time I hear Alice talking about—worrying that it might get shut down? I realize it's not the being killed that scares me. It's the idea of possibly having to go back."

"We're not going back," Daryl said. "If we leave here, one thing's pretty certain. We're not going back. They might let us be free, or they might kill us, but they aren't filling the prisons back up. We'll never see Region Thirty Three again unless we're driving by it one day and showing our kids where we met—telling them about that time when the Wilds weren't as free as they are now."

He meant it as a little bit of a joke, but he saw Carol shudder at the thought.

"That's why none of us are letting this project fail," Carol said. "None of us. We've all got to do what we can to make this happen. I've talked to Alice about it and I believe it, Daryl. I believe that the project is for real. I believe that we can make it to freedom. But everyone's got to be in it. Like Samirah said. Alice and the others heading it up? They can't do it without us. Because, if it fails?"

Carol didn't say anything about if it failed, but she didn't have to. Daryl knew as well as anyone what would happen if it failed. They all did.

Daryl licked his lips and held her eyes with his own.

"I'm in," he said. "You know that. I'm in it. Whatever we gotta do? We'll do it. But..."

He broke off because his stomach wasn't agreeing with his brain on what a good idea it was to tell her everything that had been going on—circling around in his mind—for the past few days. His stomach was tying itself in knots in protest. And the funniest thing about it was that he didn't know why he should be afraid of her. He felt closer to her, honestly, than he'd ever felt to anyone.

"But?" Carol pressed.

Daryl swallowed down his nerves and tried to tell his stomach to relax. It was Carol. She wasn't threatening. There was nothing to fear around her. She made things feel not frightening.

"I'm in this," Daryl repeated. "Doing what we got to do for the project. I'm in it."

"I heard that," Carol said. "But it was the 'but' that I was worried about."

"But," Daryl said, repeating the word with some emphasis, "I was thinking that this? This—you and me? This—baby if we get one?" Carol nodded her head at him, her eyebrows raised in question. Daryl sighed. "If we get one? I know we said we were doing it for the project—because that's what we gotta do and that's what they're needing and wanting us to do. But—I don't know if that's why I'm really hoping we're doing it. It was—but I don't know if that's why I'm wanting it anymore."

Carol's expression softened and she sat up a little more on her elbow.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

Daryl gnawed at his lip and tried to ignore his stomach's insistence than he should turn back now and never speak again for as long as he lived. His gut, he knew, had a way of overreacting.

"I feel like I'm doing this—because I want to do this," Daryl said. "With you. You and me. Like—if there weren't no project? If they weren't—telling us they needed like a head count to keep going? I'd still be wanting to do this."

The corners of Carol's mouth turned up slightly and she moved her hand. He felt her fingertips brush over his cheek. He felt her tuck his hair behind his ear. His stomach, all the while, continued to try to send the message to his brain that everything was a bad idea—even if his brain didn't agree.

"What are you saying, Daryl?" Carol asked.

"Just what I said," Daryl answered.

The corners of her mouth turned up a little more. She raised her eyebrows at him again.

"Are you saying that—you're doing this because you...just because you...want to have a baby with me?" Carol asked.

Daryl's breathing, suddenly, picked up. It was a natural response to his stomach's carrying on. He realized that he couldn't answer her. Not then. Not with actual words. He nodded his head gently and hoped that would suffice for now. It must have been enough because she smiled sincerely and she leaned in, kissing him gently and nipping at his lips as she pulled away.

"Me too," she said. She stole another quick kiss and then nuzzled her nose against his cheek as she moved her body over and closer to his. "I want to have a baby with you too. The rest? It's just—extra."

Daryl wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her into him and he wondered, for a moment, if she could hear his heart thundering. He wondered if she was aware of his faster breathing and if she might have some knowledge of the rushing sensation that ran through his veins when he heard her echo, in such a soft voice, the thoughts that he was having.

He wondered, too, what it all meant.

But she wasn't forcing him to put words to it, and he wasn't asking it of her either. There would be time for that. They had plenty of time. For the moment, Daryl simply rolled her body under him and found her lips again for himself.

After all, if they both wanted to have a baby, and this was their perfect window of opportunity, they better do everything they could to make sure that it took. The rest would keep—for at least a little while.