So yeah, it's a war
It's the goddamn fight of my life and you started it
You started it

Daryl didn't return at all the next day, or the next. I was sick both mornings and wasn't sure if it was because I was worried about him, or the pregnancy, or both. I hadn't been sick with Luke, but I had with Lucy and I knew I could be in for an unpleasant first trimester even without Daryl's issues.

On the second day, my dad mentioned that he hadn't seen Daryl around and I started crying, unable to hold back in the face of his concern. He brought me to the house where I told both my parents some of what had happened, leaving out the part where he accused me of sleeping with Raph, and explaining some of the back story of his childhood.

My mother hugged me tightly and reassured me that he'd be back once he'd had a chance to process it all. "It's pretty clear he hasn't had much experience dealing with feelings or relationships sweetie," she reasoned, "but he's risen to the occasion with every other challenge, and I'm sure he'll do the same here. I think anyone would be pretty shocked to find out that they'd fathered a child after taking such drastic steps to prevent it."

She was right, and I fell asleep slightly easier that night hoping he'd be back the next day and ready to figure out what we were going to do, but the next passed with no sign of him. I was sicker that day, unable to hold down much of anything, and couldn't sleep that night, so I slipped out of the camper and sat on the wooden bench that my grandfather had built in the herb garden, drawing my knees to my chest and laying my head down on my crossed arms.

A silent figure sat next to me after a moment, and I realized Daryl must have been waiting outside the camper, maybe trying to organize his thoughts before talking to me. He didn't say anything, and I turned toward him, exhausted and hurt but ready to have the difficult conversation I knew was coming.

"You left," I finally said when he didn't make any attempt to start talking. He nodded and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, head bent. "Where did you go?" I prodded, getting frustrated at his silence. When he spoke, his voice was rough and low, "I was . . . my head was fucked up. All I could think of was you with him, couldn' get it out of my head."

Tears welled up in my eyes and I willed them back. "Daryl, I would never do that. I don't know how you can think that - I'm completely in love with you. When have I ever done anything that would lead you to believe I'd cheat on you?"

He shook his head, still not looking at me. "I know. I just . . . I see you with him and the kids sometimes and you look like a normal family. Part a me is always waiting for you ta change yer mind about me. And you bein' pregnant after I had that shit shut down a long time ago . . . just didn' make as much sense as the thing I was afraid of actually happenin."

I swallowed back my anger and reached out to touch his arm. "Honestly, it's hurtful that you'd think that about me, but I agree that the whole failed vasectomy thing is pretty crazy and could fuck with your head. I just . . . I need to know that you aren't gonna leave again and that you'll talk to me about things you're worried about."

He scrubbed his hands over his face and continued to stare straight ahead. "I ain't gonna leave until you tell me to," he said dully, and I scooted closer so I could wrap my arms around him. "I'm not gonna tell you to leave, Daryl. I love you, and we can figure this out. Let's go inside." He followed me into the camper and sat on the edge of the bed, but he didn't make any move to lie down, and I pulled away a bit to look at him.

"What else is wrong?" I asked gently. "Please just talk to me, and we'll fix it together." He put his face in his hands then, and I sat back a little more. "What is it?" I whispered, my stomach clenching with anxiety. He took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter. "Gotta tell ya about . . . what I did when I left that night."

"Okay," I said slowly. "Where did you go?" He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a minute before speaking, but once he started it all came out in a rush. "Needed a drink, so I just walked until I found a bar on th'other side a town. Like I said, I was fucked up and couldn' stop thinkin' about you with him. I jus' drank until I couldn' see straight to get the images outta my head, ended up blackin' out at some point. When I woke up . . . " here he paused and swallowed hard, "I was . . . with some girl. I didn' even remember how we . . ." he trailed off and I pulled my knees back to my chest, gripping them tightly to stop from shaking.

"Did you fuck her?" I managed to choke out, and he shook his head hesitantly. "No. Don' remember much, but she said she . . . went down on me. I was . . . fuck, I was just . . . I thought you'd fucked him and I think I wanted to do somethin' that would hurt you just as much."

I pressed my forehead to my knees and tried to breathe and think. Tears pricked my eyes and I squeezed them shut in a futile attempt to hold myself together. "Well, you succeeded wildly," I gritted out. "Congratulations." I laid down with my back to him, unwilling to let him see me fall apart, and let the tears fall silently, trying to keep my shaky breaths as quiet as possible.

"Jus' tell me ta go," he said, barely above a whisper, "an' I will, but I promised I wouldn' unless you told me to." I wiped away more tears and gave a humorless laugh. "The sick part about loving you is that even when you're the one who hurt me, I want you with me," I said, finally turning to look at him. "You're the person who makes me feel better just by being there, even when looking at you hurts so much I think I might throw up."

He flinched at that, and I was struck by a realization. "But it's not like that for you, is it? You wanted to be far away from me when I hurt you. I thought . . . I thought you loved me even though you never said it. I told myself you couldn't say it, but you didn't need to because you showed me all the time, but I was wrong. And now I'm pregnant with your kid, and you're just stuck with me and a life you never wanted."

He finally met my eyes and I realized with a slight shock that there were tear tracks on his cheeks. "That's not true. I wanted to come back the second I left," he said hoarsely. "But when you fell . . . when you got hurt because a me I just saw me doin' the same thing my pa did when he got pissed, and I thought if I stayed I could end up really hurting you. I've never even wanted to hit ya, I promise, but I know there's plenty a him inside me somewhere. I thought if I jus' went far enough away and got drunk enough, I could come back in the morning and talk to ya without bein' a threat."

"What else did you do?" I demanded. "You were gone for three days, Daryl. Did you just keep getting drunk, maybe wake up with someone else? Think of other ways you could get back at me for something I didn't do?" He shook his head quickly. "No, I didn't drink after that. I was sick, thinkin' about what I did. Just wandered around tryin' ta figure out what to do. All the options. An' . . . an' I went to a doctor to confirm what ya said. I wanted to believe you but I was still havin' a hard time thinkin' straight. I shoulda just come back before, I know, but I didn' think I could sort through everythin' in my head without knowin' for sure."

I nodded, my anger keeping the tears at bay for the moment. "I see. So you left me, got blackout drunk, let some random girl go down on you, which you won't even let me do, and then even after you sobered up you still thought I might have cheated on you, and had to find a doctor to confirm that I was telling you the truth. Does that cover it?"

He swallowed and nodded. "I don' think I really needed the doctor to confirm it, but I was sick with guilt about tha' girl and I was almost hopin' ya had cheated so I wouldn' feel like such a piece a shit."

"Oh yes, heaven forbid you feel bad about having some skank's mouth wrapped around your cock while I lay here worrying about you and puking my guts out because of your kid," I spat bitterly.

Daryl scrubbed at his eyes in frustration and shook his head but didn't respond. "So what did you decide?" I asked icily. "After you figured out I didn't cheat on you, you said you wandered around and thought about 'all the options'. Which one are you picking? Leaving? Sticking around to raise a kid you resent with someone who just makes you feel guilty?"

Daryl looked at me again. "I wanna be with you, and I wouldn' ever resent a kid," he said quietly. "I think I'll be a shit dad, and I'm already shit at this," he gestured between us, "but I want it, if you do. But it's up ta you, all of it. If ya want me to leave, I will. I won' go far, and I'll make sure you've got whatever ya need but I'll stay away as much as ya want. And if ya want me to stay, I'll . . . Jesus, I'll figure out some way to show you that I . . ." he shook his head, unable to finish his thought.

I took a shaky breath and tried to think. It was late, I was exhausted, and I didn't have the capacity to make any decisions right then. My head hurt, I still felt nauseous, and my whole body ached with the physical pain that accompanied his betrayal. I just wanted to sleep, so I crawled under the covers and lay down. "I don't know what I want," I said quietly. "But I know I don't want you to leave right now. I just . . . let's just sleep and figure it out in the morning."

Daryl slid hesitantly under the blankets next to me, and I closed my eyes, resisting the temptation to curl into him for some comfort. I couldn't help the tears that came again, and my quiet sobs filled the small space but eventually, I drifted to sleep.

I woke with the familiar intense nausea, and crawled over Daryl, making it to the tiny bathroom just in time. I never had much in my stomach, but the hormones seemed determined that I would dry heave anyway, and I sat curled against the wall next to the toilet between waves of sickness. I could feel him watching me, unsure what he should do, but I didn't care. Eventually, I pulled myself up and washed my face in the little kitchen sink, taking a couple of careful sips of water, and a few bites of plain bread in the hopes it would settle my stomach.

"D'ya want me to get Herschel?" Daryl asked cautiously. "It's just morning sickness," I snapped tiredly. "There's nothing he can do and it'll keep going until I'm out of the first trimester at least, so get used to it."

I realized I'd decided I wasn't going to ask him to leave, at least not right then. I knew I could survive raising a kid on my own, and I'd have plenty of help, but I didn't want anyone but Daryl. He had hurt me deeply, and I hadn't even begun to work through just how much, but he'd also been hurt so much in his life that I knew his actions were partly a response to that. I couldn't blame him quite as much as I would someone like Raph, who'd been taught healthy ways to deal with emotions, and I thought there was a chance we could salvage something that was worth fighting for.