AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I'm back now, at least when life allows me the time to write. I'm hoping it's much more often than it has been these past few months. While I was away I had two people contact me about this story (thank you for that!), so I took that as a good indication that somebody, at least, would be interested in another chapter for this one. I hope this doesn't disappoint as we move forward!

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

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Daryl stood on the sidewalk and stared at his brother. He felt like he hadn't seen him in a lifetime. Part of him felt like he'd never actually seen the man that was standing there, prosthetic limb on one arm and a woman on the other, smiling at him.

In many ways, Merle Dixon had seen better days. His experiences since Daryl had last seen him left scars on his body. He'd lost a hand and part of his arm. He looked battered and bruised, even though everything was as healed over as it could possibly be. His hair was thinning and much more silver than it had been.

In many ways, being the wildest of the Wilds had aged Merle and treated him badly.

But in other ways?

There was a genuine happiness in Merle's eyes that Daryl was positive he'd never seen before. His whole life, when he conjured Merle up in his mind's eyes, he remembered his brother's eyes as looking a little cloudy. His eyelids looked a little heavy. There was a lot of truth and anger and weariness in Merle's eyes. But that was gone now. Maybe it still existed, somewhere deep down, but it was gone to the naked eye.

The woman standing at Merle's left arm—Sadie—was shorter than even Carol. She was of a little stockier build than Carol, but she was a small woman just the same. Daryl could hardly look at her and imagine that she qualified to be called one of the most dangerous women in the world-as-they-knew-it. She was deaf, and Daryl knew that, but she seemed to drift in and out of her interest in the conversation. More often than not, she seemed to be staring at Carol and Daryl, but she wasn't attempting to say much. She gave a smile, every now and again, and Daryl assumed it was more to let them know that she meant them no ill feelings than it was to express genuine amusement. Of course, the more that Daryl thought about it, the more he figured it might simply be exhausting for the woman to try to keep up with the conversation, and not much was happening that she couldn't be filled in on if it was necessary.

Daryl had no idea what Sadie had looked like before the turn. He had no way of knowing. Everything about their pasts was lost beyond that which existed in the stories they told—and even those didn't have to be true if they didn't want them to be. At this point, though, Sadie looked worn and tired like Merle. She had some scars that were immediately visible to Daryl's eyes and he suspected that she hadn't worn them before everything.

It hadn't been any easier on her than it had been on any of them.

"Who the hell woulda thought, lil' brotha?" Merle mused again. He was better at conversation than Daryl had ever been, but at the moment he seemed unable to link too many thoughts together. Maybe he was overwhelmed with everything that was going on. Maybe he had simply fallen out of the practice of talking to more than just the woman on his arm. Maybe, honestly, they'd all forgotten how to do all the little "civilized" things of the old world. "Who the hell...woulda thought? The damn Dixons. You an' me. Both of us with a lil' woman an' kids on the way," Merle mused once more.

Daryl laughed to himself over the fact that Carol forced a laugh and continued to smile. He could see that her face was hurting from keeping the expression going, but she wasn't going to be rude. She'd rather die than be rude to his brother during the first conversation that the four of them were allowed to have in public and like normal human beings. She wouldn't ruin Merle and Sadie's first day out of the house with rudeness. Even after everything, that wasn't Carol's style. She still held onto enough "civilization" that she'd never let that happen if she could avoid it.

"I wouldn'ta thought it of your ass, that's for damned sure," Daryl said. "Come tellin' me that'cha got yourself some lil' woman and Merle Dixon's actually gonna have a kid." Daryl laughed to himself. "I'm sure it weren't the first one, but it's the first you ever knew about."

Merle laughed quietly. He pulled his arm loose from Sadie and she followed his hand with her eyes as he reached up to scratch at the back of his neck. She might not be entirely aware of the conversation, but she was fully aware of every move that Merle made.

What made the whole interaction difficult, Daryl thought, was that they were trying to make this as normal as possible, but deep down they all knew that it wasn't normal. Daryl cared for Carol and, after seeing him, he had no doubt that Merle must have some feelings for Sadie, but this wasn't normal. They'd been put together, in couples, to procreate. And even though he and Carol had been given some choice in the matter, Daryl knew that Merle and Sadie hadn't—and they wouldn't ever be given any choice.

Only a week had passed since they'd come with a truck and they'd taken away, bound just as they'd been when they'd come, the other "wildest of the wilds" that they'd been keeping under maximum security lockdown in the fenced in area. They'd reported it, on the rolling and repetitive news channel, as the authorities taking them to a more "suitable" place, but everyone knew what it meant. Those people—and they were still people, even if they'd lost touch with it—would never be seen or heard from again.

Only today were they finally allowing Sadie and Merle to pretend that things were normal and to leave their house since Alice had convinced them that some fresh air and a little exercise would be good for Sadie and the baby that she wore no current physical evidence of carrying.

But things weren't normal. Not six feet away from them, Daryl could see a guard watching them. The guy appeared relaxed, but he was watching them with some care. He suspected Merle and Sadie might try something. He thought he should be ready for it.

It was hard to have a normal conversation when you were being watched and everything you did—even scratching the back of your neck—made the guard stand a little more at attention.

But they were doing their best.

"Don't know if we gettin' some kinda two for one deal," Merle said. "Not like you an' the lil' lady here. I mean—Doc says it's too early for her to tell much except that the kid's there. Sadie's growin' it right like she oughta."

"It would be fun to have twins together," Carol offered. There was a slight catch in her voice. Daryl didn't believe it had anything to do with any opinion she may have about Merle and Sadie having twins. He thought she was probably responding to the presence of the guard. The man made her nervous. The man made Daryl nervous, too.

"Listen, brother," Daryl said, eying the guard. "Wanna—see ya. Wanna talk to ya. But—Barney Fife over there? He's uh...he's..."

Merle glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the guard and Sadie turned her head, too, to watch the man.

"Yeah—he's tailin' our ass for a week," Merle said. "'Til they trust we know how the hell to behave ourselves, ya know? No killin' people with the damn knives we ain't got or—pissin' on the sidewalk. Unpredictable shit our wild ass selves might do. He's guardin' you good people of Woodbury against it all."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"I don't know about good people," Daryl said, still stealing glances at the guard. "Here—we're still wild too. Wild until proven human, I reckon. That's the drill."

Merle hummed at him.

"Still, Derlina—some of us is a heap more wild than others," Merle said. "At least to them we are. And when they holdin' the guns? Their opinions is the only damn ones that counts."

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"Genetic testing," Alice said. "Like—for genetic mutations or abnormalities. Any problems the baby might have."

"Like amniocentesis?" Michonne asked.

"Yeah," Alice said. "Exactly. Exactly like that. We'll take some of the amniotic fluid and it'll be sent to a lab at Regional. They've got a really excellent lab. It'll take a little while—maybe even a week or so—but they'll send the results back to us and then I'll come visit you and we'll talk about it. We'll discuss, you know, where we go from there."

"What do you mean?" Andrea asked. "Where we go from there?"

Michonne moved a hand over and rested it on Andrea's leg. She wanted Andrea to remain as calm as she possibly could. There was no need in getting upset until there was actually something that they needed to be upset about. At the moment there was nothing concrete. As far as they were being told, Alice had just come over to explain some tests that she was going to perform the next day.

But Michonne considered herself pretty good at reading people, and Alice wasn't exactly difficult to read. The woman was hiding something or, if she wasn't hiding it, she wasn't telling them everything they needed to know. Andrea wasn't stupid and she could pick up on it too. That was why Andrea was already getting worked up and Michonne knew it. Like Michonne, she wanted the whole story.

Alice shrugged her shoulders.

"Well—I mean—if things look good then that's excellent," Alice said. "You just—carry on. After the test I'll want you to take it easy. Just for a day or so. Just to make sure that everything goes well and there aren't any complications..."

"Complications?" Andrea interjected.

Alice held up a hand to calm her. She shook her head.

"It's an invasive procedure," Alice said. "The needle has to puncture the amniotic sac. There's a small chance that it could cause some complications, but it's a very small chance. It's hardly—well, it's hardly worth mentioning."

"But you have to mention it," Michonne said, "because it's a chance."

Alice nodded her head.

"It's a chance," Alice said. "But it's really not that much of a chance. You can rest afterward and just take it easy. Relax. Really? I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"How much of a chance?" Andrea asked. "I mean—are we talking a point-five percent chance or a five percent chance?"

Alice laughed nervously.

"Does it matter to you either way?" Alice asked.

Andrea sat back and relaxed into the back of the couch. She shook her head.

"No," she admitted. "Any chance is too much of a chance."

Alice nodded her head.

"I understand you're concerned," Alice said. "But I don't think that you have to really worry. It's a two percent chance and—we'll do everything we can to make sure that things go well. The stress, honestly, is probably worse for you than the test. Just try to relax. It'll be over before you know it and you can just put your feet up and force Michonne to spoil you."

"You said if everything is fine then we just continue as we have been," Michonne said. Alice nodded at her and Michonne sat forward, closing the space between herself and the brunette a little more. "What if everything isn't fine?" Instinctively, Michonne patted Andrea's leg to comfort her over even the mention of such a possibility. She'd probably be up half the night trying to calm Andrea down before the test—and she didn't even want to think, at the moment, what tomorrow would be like.

Alice visibly swallowed and clearly considered her answer very carefully. Michonne knew she wasn't acting on her own. The test wasn't Alice's idea. She hadn't come here to sell them something she really believed in. She'd come here to sell them something that she'd been hired to sell. It couldn't have been clearer to Michonne, watching Alice's face, if the woman had been reading from cue cards she produced from her pocket.

"Well—we'll discuss it," Alice said. "Depending on—depending on what we find...if we find anything at all...then we'll discuss it. There will be options. Options we'll need to discuss." Alice shook her head at both of them and quickly put on a strained smile. "But there's no need to worry about that," she assured them. "Being positive is the best medicine there is and, right now? We're just going to focus on doing the test tomorrow and pampering Andrea a little. I don't believe we'll find anything to be concerned about. But—if we do? We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, OK?"

"If it's genetic testing," Michonne said, "then it should be optional. I was given the chance to choose with both of my daughters." She shook her head at Alice. "Both times, I opted out of the tests. It didn't matter to me if—if my baby was born with two heads. She was still my child." Alice nodded her head, more like she was signaling that she was following along rather than actually agreeing with anything that Michonne was saying. "In the woods? Out there? We didn't have anything. No prenatal care. No vitamins. There were days when we didn't eat and I did everything I could just to make sure that Andrea got a drink of water every day. Our baby was...he was fine."

Andrea moved her hand to squeeze Michonne's and Michonne turned her hand to return the gesture. Alice nodded her head a little more sincerely than before.

"I understand," Alice said.

Michonne shook her head at Alice.

"I'm sorry," Michonne said. "But—two percent is two percent too high for us. We don't care if he or she has any problems. We can deal with it. We don't want the test."

Alice nodded her he again.

"I understand," she said, her voice fading out slightly at the end of her words. She licked her lips and then shook her head at both of them. She leaned forward. "I understand and—I'm sorry. I really am. But I don't think that you understand me. The test? I came here to tell you about it. I came here to prepare you so—so that you weren't surprised when I came to get you tomorrow and started sticking needles in you. I didn't come here to get your permission. The test isn't optional. It's mandatory. And—straight from the Governor? You can either submit to it or be returned to prison."

Michonne knew exactly what being returned to prison meant. She squeezed Andrea's hand in hers and looked at Andrea. Andrea looked tired and worried. She wasn't even trying to pretend that she wasn't either of those things.

Andrea nodded.

"I guess you've got your answer," Andrea said. "We'll see you tomorrow. What time?"

"I'll come early," Alice said. "Before breakfast. That way you've got the whole day to relax and you don't have to worry any longer than necessary."

Alice reached her hand out and caught Andrea's other hand—the one Michonne wasn't rubbing between her own two hands. Alice rubbed Andrea's hand between her fingers and she gave Andrea her best reassuring smile.

"Don't worry," Alice said. "I meant what I said. I can't make you promises. I'm not God. But I can tell you that I believe—I truly believe that there won't be any problem. And tomorrow? I'll take good care of you. You've got my word—for whatever it's worth."