AN: Here's a little more to the story!

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

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Daryl left Carol to finish with Sophia's nighttime routine and to get the little girl tucked into bed. He switched gears, intending to provide his wife with a nice night to welcome her into their new home—especially since he knew she'd been a little reluctant to trade a life she knew in a familiar prison cell for a life that she didn't know in a walled community.

Daryl and Merle had chosen a limited amount of furniture for each of their apartments. They'd gotten the requested essentials, and they'd determined that Carol and Andrea could make further requests as they found they needed them. One of the things that Daryl had gotten, though, was a choice that he made all on his own.

At the community storage, they had a futon mattress which didn't have a futon frame. It folded up as well as any such clunky cushion would, and Daryl had insisted on bringing it back to the apartment and storing it in the extra room that would eventually be turned into the nursery for their newest family member. His reasoning was simple—the floors were hard. The futon mattress would fit perfectly in the living room floor, and it was easily moved from one location to another. It would provide a place for naps and tumbles. It would be great for Sophia and perfect for putting down the little one without fear of a spill from the height of the bed or couch.

It would also be a perfect place for anyone who wanted to catch a quick nap by the fireplace.

Daryl used some of the wood and kindling to start a small fire in the fireplace—nothing big was needed, since it was hardly cold enough to need a roaring fire—and then he dragged his new acquirement from the empty nursery into the living room and spread it out on the floor. He brought pillows and blankets from the bedroom, and he was just dropping those onto the large cushion when Carol came walking into the living room from Sophia's bedroom. There was the faintest hint of a smile on her lips as she took in the scene before her, and her forehead was wrinkled in question.

"A fire?" She asked.

"Small one," Daryl said.

"It's chilly," she said. The suggestion visibly made her shiver, and she laughed to herself. "But—I don't know if it's that cold."

"That's why it's a small one," Daryl said. "It'll burn out before too long."

"What's all this?" She asked, gesturing toward the cushion, blankets, and pillows.

Daryl smiled to himself. He felt his face grow warm at the sight of his half-finished creation. He nipped at a piece of skin at his cuticle that he'd almost worked free throughout the day.

"Hershel talks about how it's important to—make sure you got a comfortable, stable, happy place where you can, you know, grow our baby. He says that—well, that every pregnant woman likes that sense of a sure home. She likes to build herself a nest. Get her place all feathered up right for the baby."

Carol smiled at him.

"You know it's not a literal nest he's talking about," she said. "I'm not going to—send you out for twigs and leaves."

"I know," Daryl said. "I'd get 'em, though, if you wanted 'em."

"I know you would," Carol said.

"Anyway," Daryl said, gesturing toward the cushion. "It's a nest. Not a real one, obviously. And it's just for lovin' right now— 'til we're ready for bed. But—it's a nest."

Carol's smile broadened. She sighed, but it wasn't an exasperated sigh at all. It was more like the quiet little sighs that she let out when she settled into bed after a long day and Daryl wrapped himself around her. It was the sound of her being satisfied and relaxing.

"You like it?" He pressed.

"It looks comfortable," Carol said.

"Oh—it's gonna be," Daryl said.

"It would be more comfortable if—you shared it with me," Carol said.

Daryl appreciated her expression and the teasing in her tone.

"We share everything, right? Come on—get on down here with me."

Daryl helped Carol step onto the cushion and lower herself down. He was certain that she had the ability to handle things on her own, but he also knew that her center of gravity was shifting as the evidence of their growing little one became more pronounced. There was no need for Carol to fall just to prove some kind of point.

As soon as Carol was safely settled on the cushion, Daryl rearranged pillows and spread out the blanket before he joined her. He got comfortable, reclined against the pillows, and urged Carol to join him. She came and curled in against him, facing him. She hummed in satisfaction, rubbed her face against the pillow, and Daryl felt a chill crawl up the length of his spine at her sound of pleasure.

"You don't hate it as much as you thought, do you?" Daryl asked. She hummed in question. "This place. You were pretty worried that you weren't gonna like it. That it weren't gonna be no kind of home. But—we got us an actual place here, Carol. Walls, and rooms, and space."

Carol smiled to herself.

"We do," she ceded. "I guess it's just—new. It's not home yet."

"Not broke in yet," Daryl agreed, "but we're gonna break it in. You'll see. It might even turn out that you like it more than the prison. We'll live here and visit there."

Carol smiled and raised her eyebrows at him.

"It sounds to me like you're already sold on the place," Carol said.

Daryl felt his face grow warm. He had to admit, at least to himself, that he really did like the idea of having an actual home. He liked the idea that the apartment was theirs. He liked having Merle and Andrea living just in the same building. Even with Hershel living with them, he liked the idea of having a bedroom that was their private little sanctuary—with more than a blanket to close out the world.

But he wasn't going to push Carol. He didn't want to push her into anything. If she ended up liking this place, he wanted her to get there on her own. Ultimately—prison or apartment—he'd be happy wherever they lived, as long as their little family was together.

"I'm just lookin' at the good things we're gettin' outta the deal. That's more than a decent sized kitchen in there, don't you think?" Daryl asked. "You could cook just for us if you don't wanna eat the community meals every day."

"I'm going to be cooking those community meals," Carol said with a laugh. "I signed up to help there—along with leading some of food storage lessons. But—I understand what you're saying."

"What about the bathrooms? Workin' shower in our room with a bathtub."

Carol smiled.

"That is pretty nice," she said. "I took a shower tonight, but I'm kind of looking forward to soaking in a tub."

"As much as you like," Daryl said.

"It won't be long, it'll be hard for me to get in and out of a tub," Carol said.

Daryl moved his hand down to rub her belly.

"You say when, and I'll get you in and out," Daryl assured her. "You don't even worry about that. You can go, too, when you're ready—pick out some more furniture and things. Start settin' up that nursery. Make it just like you want it."

"It could be nice not to have to worry about my baby keeping everyone awake and—disturbing everyone," Carol said. Daryl kissed her. She returned the kiss, long and lingering, so he indulged her. She smiled at him, in between different kisses, and her expression only made him want to come back for more. "We don't have to bother anyone here," Carol said.

"Don't have to bother anyone," Daryl said. "Don't have to worry about anyone. We do our work. We live our life, Carol. You want—we'll go down tomorrow and see that fancy doctor they got here. We'll get this place all ready. Just how you want it. However the hell it's gonna be more comfortable for you to bring this baby into the world, right?"

Carol pushed him away, just slightly. There was a hint of something on her features. It wasn't full blown panic, but it was certainly in the same family. Daryl tensed just to see it.

"I say somethin' wrong?" Daryl asked.

"I still want Hershel to deliver the baby, Daryl," Carol said. "Here or there…I know him. I trust him."

"And that ain't gonna change, Carol," Daryl assured her. "He's in there sleepin' right now—stayin' with us, remember? Gonna live here as long as he wants. And he's already said that, here or there? He's gonna help you have the baby. Maybe you just wanna see the doctor, too. Not instead, just—in addition."

"I don't want to have a baby in some basement, on a table, Daryl," Carol said.

Daryl laughed to himself.

"How about—your bed? That suit you?"

"I'm sorry," Carol said.

Daryl shook his head at her, gently, just to say that he didn't want an apology. He didn't care for apologies when they weren't really needed—most of the time they just reminded him that she'd once felt the need to apologize for every aspect of herself and, even once Ed was gone, she'd continued apologizing to the group for Sophia.

"Why are you tellin' me you're sorry?" Daryl asked, pulling her a little tighter against him for whatever comfort it may offer her. She nuzzled her face against him, somewhat like a cat, and sighed—that satisfied, relaxed sigh. Daryl felt her muscles relax as he held her.

"You think I'm being difficult," Carol said. "And—you're probably right. To be honest, I feel difficult, Daryl. And I don't even know what to do about it."

Daryl laughed to himself. He squeezed her gently.

"I wish I could do somethin' about your feelings," Daryl said, "but there ain't much I can do. What I can tell you is that—I don't think you're being difficult, so you don't gotta worry about that. Maybe—not too many people have let you know it before, Carol, but you're allowed to want things to go a certain way. You're allowed to have some expectations outta life. That ain't bein' difficult to say this is how the hell I want somethin' to be—especially not when it's somethin' like I'd rather not have to have my baby on a kitchen table in some basement."

Carol pulled away from him enough to look at him. The only lights around them were the light from the lamp Carol had been reading by earlier—on the table at the end of the couch—and the light from the flickering and slowly dying fire. The dim light shone in her eyes. She smiled at him—not a broad smile or even a teasing smile. It was the soft smile that barely played at her lips. Daryl couldn't help himself, so he leaned and kissed her lips, gently. She playfully nibbled his bottom lip in return.

"You really don't think I'm being difficult?" She breathed out.

Daryl brought his hand down to rest it on her belly. He rubbed his hand around the swell where their youngest child was growing.

"I think—you're incredible," Daryl said. "Amazing. You got every damn right in the world, woman, to decide how you wanna do this. Hell—if it was me? I'm not gonna lie to you, Carol. I'd be a thousand times more difficult because I'd be losin' my damn mind over the thought of what all the hell you gotta do to get the baby here."

"I'm a little nervous," Carol admitted.

"A little nervous?" Daryl said with a laugh.

"I guess—having Sophia wasn't that bad," Carol said. "It wasn't as bad as—some people made me think it would be. I had nurses taking care of me and Ed was gone most of the time. And then Sophia was there—and I got to just hold her and love her. I knew it was all worth it. So, I know this? It'll all be worth it." She raised her eyebrows at Daryl. "And it'll be even better this time because you'll be there with me. You are going to stay with me, aren't you?"

"I'ma be with you every second, if that's what you want," Daryl said. He laughed to himself. "What'd you do?"

"What?" Carol asked. She rolled a little away from him. Daryl followed her. He rubbed his hand, again, in soft circles around her belly. He brought it back to the spot where he'd been resting his hand and cupping the forming swell.

"What'd you do to do that?" Daryl asked.

"Do what, Daryl?" Carol asked. There was a hint of panic in her voice. Daryl's stomach tightened because he realized she wasn't playing with him. She wasn't teasing.

"Make your stomach jump like that—or whatever," Daryl said.

Carol furrowed her brow.

"Am I—doing it now?" She asked.

"No," Daryl said. "But you were."

She stared at him a moment. Then she smiled. She took his hand in hers and pressed it against her belly in a different spot. She moved her fingers so that his hand was flat against her bump and she pressed into his fingers, mashing his hand into her skin.

"Am I doing it now?" She breathed out, practically whispering.

"Yeah," Daryl said after a second. "What is that?"

Carol's smile grew, now.

"That's our baby, Daryl," Carol said. Daryl felt his stomach flip. For a second, he felt like all the blood drained out of his entire body. "You can feel it. Kicking or…moving."

"You're serious?"

"Would I make that up?" Carol asked.

"Why isn't it doing it anymore?" Daryl asked. Carol lie back down, fully, and snuggled into the pillow, facing Daryl.

"Maybe because I moved," she said. "Maybe because it got tired. Maybe the baby's shy, Daryl, and it was surprised to find out that Daddy could feel it."

Daryl couldn't have begun to explain the feeling that washed over him. His heart was beating erratically. It was difficult to breathe. He was sure that his chest was tight enough to actually pop.

He moved his face to Carol's belly. He kissed the swell he'd kissed hundreds of times before.

"Hey—you don't gotta be shy," Daryl offered. He didn't know if the little thing could honestly hear him or not, but he figured talking to it wasn't going to hurt. There had been plenty of times he'd been told that Sophia couldn't understand him—that he was talking over her head and comprehension level—but he continued to talk to her like he would anyone else, and he felt like she understood better than some people gave her credit for.

"If the baby understood things," Carol said, running her fingers affectionately through Daryl's hair, "they'd know that Daddy is—Daddy is number one on their side."

Daryl laughed to himself. He kissed Carol's belly again and caressed it with his fingers. The magical movement had stopped for now. Daryl returned to share a kiss with Carol, and she groaned at him appreciatively and moved toward him, making sure that he didn't break the kiss too soon. He let her decide when it was over.

"It's really real," Daryl said when the kiss did break. Carol's smile carried all the way to her eyes.

"It is," she said.

"I know you think I'm crazy, but…it's really, really real, Carol," Daryl offered. Her smile grew, if it were possible. He saw tears puddling in her eyes, but he knew, by now, those sometimes happened when she wasn't sad at all.

"It is," she breathed out.

"Holy shit," Daryl said, realizing he sounded like an idiot—realizing that there should have been better things to say—but not knowing how to stop himself. Carol didn't seem to mind too much, though. She dabbed at her eyes with her fingertips and laughed quietly to herself.

"Daddy?" She said, catching his attention.

"Hmmm?" He asked.

"What do you say—you help me out of this nest and…we go see how comfortable our new bed is? Maybe we'll—think of a few things to get the baby moving?"

Daryl nodded at her.

"Whatever you want, sounds good to me, woman," he assured her before he moved to help her get up, gather their pillows and blanket, and head to bed.