AN: Here we are, another chapter here!

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

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"You need a hand?" Daryl asked. As soon as the doors were closed, Alice had gone into an almost frantic scramble to find materials in the back of the ambulance. With Carol situated with the two babies—both trying to, and Daryl assumed, succeeding at, nursing at the same time—Alice was gathering supplies to bandage her hand.

She sighed and offered her bleeding hand out in Daryl's direction. With the other hand she offered him a pair of surgical scissors and some rubber gloves. He put the gloves on immediately.

"I need this shit covered before we get anywhere and anyone starts asking questions," Alice said. "Do you even know how fucking screwed we'd all be if they knew Carol bit me? They'd kill both of you on sight. Carol for being wild, you for probably being wild, and then they'd kill me for getting bitten by a wild since they'd argue it might very well travel through saliva like the virus. And don't think they'd keep a baby around that came off of either of you, so that means the babies are out, and Sophia by association. Something so damned stupid could start a massacre."

"I'm sorry," Carol offered weakly.

"It's OK," Alice said, though no amount of wanting to comfort Carol was going to take away her irritation at the moment.

"Hand me the bandages," Daryl said, gesturing toward the rest of the supplies she was gathering. She sat, instead, on the seat that belonged to her and handed him a rag.

"First you've got to—stab me," Alice said.

"The fuck?" Daryl responded.

"Stab me," Alice said. "Cut me. With the scissors. Not deep. Not deep enough to hit nerves—for fuck's sake. I can't lose the ability to do surgery or we're all screwed. Just—fuck up like the top two layers of skin right around the bite. Make it look like—I don't know…I had an accident with the scissors. I was—cutting bandages to work on some of that horrible damage they did to Carol, which—by the way? Mama, I've got some work to do when we get to your house, I'm sure. Make it look like I slipped. Maybe I fell. Just make it so that it's not distinguishable as a bite if anyone were to inspect it."

Daryl didn't like what he was being asked to do, but he accepted his assignment. He turned Alice's hand over in his and examined the bite that Carol had left on the fleshy part of Alice's palm.

"You wanna bite somethin'?" Daryl asked. "Shit's gonna hurt."

"Just do it," Alice growled, obviously gearing herself up to deal with what she knew was coming—what had to come to keep them all alive.

"Sorry," Daryl muttered even as he started his work of chewing up her palm with the surgical scissors—in the absence of a better weapon—to hide the few lined up holes that had been created by his wife's teeth.

Alice didn't scream, but she did make her discomfort clear through the sound of growls and spat curses that would have contributed to the local belief that Wilds were animals and being wild could possibly be transferred via something like saliva.

Carol, for her part, was upset by the whole thing to the point that she cried for the woman and repeated her apologies over and over again, even as Daryl accepted Alice's offer of bandages and tape and cleaned up his own handiwork.

"Forget about it," Alice breathed out when she could find her voice again. "Just—hope nobody needs more than any minor care for a few days. I'm not going to sugarcoat it. It hurts like a bitch."

"I didn't mean to…"

Alice laughed and moved to hover over Carol as soon as Daryl had finished taping the bandages. She held the hand protectively against her body for the moment. Daryl wiped the scissors clean, discarded everything he'd been given into one of the bins in the back, and put the scissors down so that Alice could show them around as the guilty weapon if she needed to prove her accidental and self-inflicted wound.

"Stop apologizing," Alice said. "You were wired and scared and—if I'm not crazy, I'm betting you're in a little bit of pain yourself, Mama."

"I'm fine," Carol said.

Daryl knew there was no way that Carol was fine. She'd been given nothing for her pain, as far as he knew, and she'd been treated worse than an animal.

"Yeah, well—you just be fine and still," Alice said, "so you don't lose more blood. I don't have much shit in this ambulance. They plan on transporting y'all and not much else. But they've already got all my shit at your house so when we get back there? I can clean you up and get you something to make you feel a lot better."

"What about the babies?" Carol asked.

Daryl's ears perked up at the question because he, too, wanted to know everything about their little ones. Now that they'd been turned over to their care—and now that their care was all turned over to the hands of the one doctor that didn't fear them—Daryl would do whatever she asked of him to keep her comfortable and keeping their little ones thriving.

Carol seemed almost afraid to touch her own babies. She held them, still bound tightly in their blankets, a little awkwardly. Each of them had to have been practically starving because neither had complained about their awkward positions, and both of them had accepted the breast closest to them for feeding.

At the moment, they were still sucking half-heartedly at Carol's breast and emitting whines every now and again. Alice gingerly reached out and helped to rearrange the infants in Carol's arms so that Carol could hold them more securely and they could get a better hold on what they wanted.

"I'll help you with nursing plans when we get to Woodbury," Alice said, softening her tone of voice from earlier. "You might want to feed them one at a time. It might be easier."

"They're hungry," Carol said.

"They kept them way too long," Alice said. "They should have had some time to bond with Mommy. They should have fed when they started searching for a nipple, not once they had the chance to get worked up and feel scared and abandoned."

"You saw them when they were born?" Carol asked.

Daryl leaned into the space the two women shared so that he could see the babies a little better. Mostly they were heads until freed from their bundles later, and he could tell very little about them. They each had a dusting of hair. One appeared to be brunette. The other had a slight rusty tint to her hair. He couldn't make out much of their faces because they were happily smashed into their mother's breasts.

Alice was affectionately stroking the cheek of the baby closest to her with a fingertip.

"No," Alice said. "No. I was in a holding cell—I guess that's what you would call it. We call them bubbles. They're for observing surgeries that are taking place. Observing procedures. They're for observation and learning. Except I was locked in there and I wasn't learning anything. I was just being held because the hospital staff views me as just a touch less dangerous than you two. I've been around you too long. From their perspective, I'm either already contaminated, at risk of being contaminated, or, at the very least, likely to act out because of some kind of sympathetic connection that they can't fucking understand. I saw them examining the babies. Running some tests. But I didn't see them immediately after they were born. Only when they got to the examination area. But I got to see them then, and they're practically perfect. They're going to be fine. Now all they need is some love and affection and plenty of milk and snuggles."

Carol looked at Daryl. She offered him a soft smile.

She was completely exhausted and he could see it around her eyes. Her eyes were also red-rimmed from crying and he was sure that pain was also pulling down on her features.

But he was pleased to see that smile again. He touched her leg under the blanket that Alice had draped over her, because he wasn't sure what he could even touch without causing her discomfort.

"You haven't even seen them yet," Carol said.

"I see them," Daryl assured her. "And I'ma see 'em real good at the house. When we get you settled. But right now? They're pretty busy an' I'm thinkin' that what they're doin' is important. I'll see 'em when they're done doin' that."

"Daddy will have plenty of time to see them," Alice assured Carol. "Because I need to see what kind of chop job they did on those stitches and I need to make sure you're all set up for healing. The person who handled Andrea made a mess of things, but we'll get it cleaned up."

"They doctors," Daryl said. "Ain't they?" Alice hummed as her only response. "Like real doctors?" She hummed again. "So, don't they take some kinda oath? Don't they make some kinda promise to take care of their patients whether they like 'em or not?"

Alice laughed to herself.

"Many doctors didn't even follow that oath in the best of times," Alice said. "And now? They feel like you're animals. And they didn't sign up to work on animals. They feel like they're being forced into veterinary practice."

"But you don't feel like that?" Daryl asked. Alice hummed again and shook his head. "Because you know we ain't animals."

"Or maybe just because I know we're all animals," Alice said. "We always have been."

As the ambulance slowed, Alice sat back down on her seat to keep from toppling in one direction or another. Daryl sat securely, as well.

"Can I help you burp these babies?" Alice asked. "We'll get 'em topped off when we're settled. But they're going to throw us out of here as fast as they loaded us."

Carol allowed Alice to relieve her of one bundle at a time and Alice did a pretty decent job of quickly coaxing each bundled baby to burp. They responded to being burped, though, by spitting up and launching into a full-fledged complaint about everything they'd suffered since being rudely thrown into the word.

She'd barely returned the second baby to Carol's arms before the back of the ambulance was opened. If they'd expected a ticker-tape parade, they would have been sorely disappointed. Willomen was there by himself. Immediately Daryl realized that he would likely leave Sophia in the care of Samirah until they'd had a chance to at least get the slightest bit settled into the house.

The workers who had driven them there on the ambulance—and Daryl didn't know if they were nurses, doctors, or some other kind of medical personnel—practically dragged Daryl out of the back of the ambulance. He saved them too much trouble, though, by getting out as quickly as he could and stepping out of the way. The guards that had escorted the ambulance were heavily armed. They weren't the normal guards of Woodbury who were slowly becoming accustomed to their wards. These guards, much like the hospital guards, would shoot him without hesitation and leave him bleeding to death in the streets without remorse while his wife looked on at the carnage.

The workers pulled the gurney out of the back of the ambulance and roughly placed it on the ground. Carol clung to their babies with everything in her. Daryl thought she looked prepared to fight—even without hands—tooth and nail to be sure that nobody made a move toward her newborns. Luckily, however, nobody did make a move toward the babies. As soon as Carol was cleared from the back of the ambulance, and as soon as Alice dropped down from the vehicle and gave the order for the hospital staff to pack up, Willomen walked directly to Carol.

Instead of reaching for babies or otherwise doing anything that might be perceived as a threat by Carol—who, despite having relaxed a little, was clearly still in a state of heightened emotion—the giant man leaned down and lifted Carol—babies and all. As soon as she was off the gurney, the hospital workers packed up their ambulance and their armed guards returned to their car. It was clear that everyone that had come was anxious to get out of the community that was possibly crawling with Wilds.

Daryl followed Willomen as he leisurely walked toward their house carrying Carol and the babies as though he were carrying a few light bags of groceries he'd offered to help them with. Alice kept step closely with Daryl.

Milton appeared practically out of nowhere, and he rushed his steps to catch up with them.

"Were both twins born live?" He asked.

"They're both alive," Alice said. "And healthy from what I can tell. I'll give them a checkup at the house."

"Everything you requested has been delivered," Milton offered.

"Good," Alice confirmed.

"The mother?" Milton asked.

"She's going to be fine," Alice said. "No thanks to the assholes working at that place."

"Will she be capable of producing twins again for comparison?" Milton asked.

Alice laughed to herself.

"Let's let her get twenty-four hours postpartum before we discuss something like that," Alice said.

Daryl wondered how it was that she was able to keep her cool with the man, but she didn't seem bothered by him as much as she seemed amused by him.

For his part, Milton didn't seem to think there was anything out of the ordinary with his line of questioning. He had a job to do, and he was doing it, just the same as the rest of them. He was busy reading information that he'd scribbled on a palm-sized pad he carried in his hand.

"What happened to your hand?" He asked, taking in his surroundings only slightly.

"Accident," Alice said. "I was trying to rebandage some leaking bandages. Tripped over my own foot in the back of the moving ambulance. Sliced my palm with the scissors."

"Do you require stitches?" Milton asked.

"If I do, I'll get them," Alice assured him.

"That's most unfortunate," Milton offered, his best attempt at sympathy so far. Alice laughed to herself.

"It'll heal," she said.

"Will you still be able to perform your duties?" Milton asked.

"Without a doubt," she said. "But—I could use some help."

"It is not likely we'll find that with the limited number of sympathizers…" Milton offered, not finishing his statement because Alice cut him off as they reached the house.

"Just send Mel," Alice said. "She'll have it covered. Now—if you'll excuse me, I'll get you a full report later, Milton. I'll even let you know when you can see the parents and babies. But for now? I've got to go and get the family settled."

Milton accepted Alice's authority in the situation. He looked only slightly annoyed before he nodded his acceptance and, hesitating a half a second on the sidewalk, turned and walked back toward the house that he called home.

Daryl mounted the steps quickly at Alice's sweeping hand gesture and opened the unlocked door. He let Willomen pass inside with Carol, and he let Alice step in before him. He closed the door behind them as the two people leading the way went straight toward the bedroom.

Daryl had never been happier to be home than he was in that moment.