AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
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"But—you're not certain," Carol said. "Are you certain?"
Hershel washed his hands in the water that Jo had brought up for him.
Daryl sat on the edge of the bed where Hershel had examined Carol. He had been holding Carol's hand, but she'd taken it back from him for a moment to run it through her hair—a sign of anxiety, he was sure. Since he had his hands free, Daryl reached for her clothes and handed her back what she'd taken off for the quick examination that Hershel had performed at her request.
Hershel made a sound that Daryl couldn't really begin to identify. It was something of a hum.
"Carol—if the test were expired, it would likely give you a false negative," Hershel said. "Not a false positive. That's just the way the hormones and everything works with those tests."
He was referring to a pregnancy test found in the back of a bathroom cabinet. When Carol had listed her symptoms off to Hershel, and when Daryl had gone back and filled in a few of the blanks that he felt like she'd left—though he didn't know if it was on purpose, or if she simply hadn't realized she'd been experiencing them—Hershel had suggested the possibility of pregnancy. His wife, Jo, had immediately seconded it. Though she had no actual medical training, from what Daryl knew, he supposed that being a woman, and a mother too, meant that she might have some special instinct about these things.
They'd scoured the house, doubtful they'd find anything, but Jo remembered that there had been an array of pads and tampons upstairs and, as luck had it, there were also a few tests tossed in among the random collection of items left behind by whoever had once lived there.
"But," Hershel said, "your cervix confirms the test. I won't say it's absolutely impossible that I'm wrong, Carol, but I would say that it's unlikely."
Carol was working her way into her clothes, but it was practically in a fog. Daryl could see it on her face. He could see it in her eyes. She was struggling with the whole idea and, to some degree, he could understand that. He wasn't sure that it had sunk in for him, either—not entirely.
"I can understand that this is overwhelming news," Hershel said, crossing his arms across his chest and standing so that he could address the two of them more conversationally now that he'd done what he could do to make sure that Carol wasn't suffering any serious health problem. "I'll give you some time to talk it over. To come to terms with things, really. You don't have to worry, I may have been a vet, but I can uphold doctor-patient confidentiality, and I won't say anything about this to anyone until you're ready. Jo won't either."
"Thanks," Daryl said.
"I'll rouse the troops," Hershel said. "I don't know when you planned to leave here, and I don't presume to give orders as a regular sort of practice, but I think we could all benefit from a few days here to catch our breath and to just figure out what we're doing next."
"I agree with that," Daryl said.
"I figured you might, son," Hershel said. "You take your time. Both of you. Jo and I'll get things going out there to get this place ready for a few days. Beth will look out for Sophia for a while. And—for what it's worth? And—so I'll have said it when the shock wears off and the blessing shines through for the both of you, congratulations to you both. A baby is a blessing. I would say even now, but I think, maybe, especially now is a better way to look at things."
They both thanked him, though their thanks rang a little hollow at the moment. He left them, pulling the door to their temporary bedroom closed. It clicked, and the sound let them know that they were truly alone for a moment.
Carol, dressed, sat on the side of the bed now. Daryl moved so that they were side by side, and he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against him in a hug. She leaned her head against his shoulder and, for a while, he simply sat there and let her "be" with him while he enjoyed the closeness of her.
"Are you going to say something?" Carol asked after a while. Daryl laughed quietly in response.
"I didn't wanna say anything until you were ready," he said.
Carol sat up and looked at him.
"I'm ready," she said.
"You wanna say somethin' first, or…you want me to just jump right into it?" Daryl asked.
"Are you—shit, Daryl, is happy even a word that we can use anymore?" Carol asked.
"It's not only a word we can use," Daryl said, "I think it's the only damn word that I can use. I couldn't be happier, Carol, than I am right now. There's just no other damn way to say it."
"Look at the world, Daryl," Carol said. "Look at—everything that's happened."
"I've seen it," Daryl said. "Like Hershel said, maybe that's why this is even better than it ever would've been before. And—we been wanting this, right?"
"In all of this?" Carol asked.
"All of this changed how you feel about me?" Daryl asked. "Made you decide you don't love me as much or something?"
"If anything, it's made me love you more," Carol admitted. "There's this constant reminder that everything can just…fall apart."
"Everything's been fallin' apart," Daryl said. He tightened his hold on her shoulder to hug her from the side. "But not me an' you. We don't fall apart, Carol. Me an' you? We—get through shit. Together. If all this has taught me any damn thing, it's that. You make me a better person. You have since I met your ass."
"And you make my life better," Carol offered. "You have since I met your ass," she added, teasing. Daryl was glad that, even with the obvious overwhelm, she was smiling.
"So—it ain't changed. We haven't changed. We wanted a baby, didn't we? Prayed for it. Worried it wouldn't happen. We got one, and it would be downright disrespectful to the whole damn universe to be sorry about it for even a minute," Daryl said.
Carol smiled at him. Her eyes glittered with tears, but none escaped for the moment.
"We have to ask the question—what if something happens?" Carol said.
"Nothin' is gonna happen," Daryl said. "It just ain't. I'm done lettin' shit happen. From now on, we're makin' shit happen, not just lettin' it happen. We'll rest here a couple days, figure out what we're gonna do exactly, and then we'll do what we said we were gonna do. We'll find someplace to settle down. Build a whole damn life."
"You sound so confident," Carol mused.
"Gotta be," Daryl said. "Gotta be confident enough to get you onboard. We can do this. Hell—we can do whatever the hell we put our minds to, as long as we're doin' this shit together. But—I can't do it alone."
Carol smiled softly at him. Her eyes darted around somewhat rapidly as she seemed to be trying to take in every square inch of his face at once.
"You don't have to do anything alone," she assured him.
"Then—you gonna tell me you trust me to look out for you, and Soph, and our baby?" Daryl asked.
"I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone," Carol said.
"Then—you gonna tell me that you're happy you're havin' my baby?" Daryl asked.
Carol's smile grew.
"I'm nervous, Daryl," Carol admitted.
"Me too," Daryl said. "Damn near sick to my stomach."
"But—I'm happy," Carol assured him.
"Me too," Daryl assured her.
He smiled at her and leaned toward her, requesting a kiss. She didn't make him wait at all. She met him with an enthusiastic kiss. They allowed themselves to get lost in that moment, kissing each other playfully. For just a moment, they let the rest of the world slip away except for that which they were sharing between them.
Finally, it was Carol that broke the kiss.
"After everything they had to say before," Carol said, "you know that—Lori and Rick…someone's going to have something to say about the baby."
"Great," Daryl said, nodding his head. "It'll give 'em somethin' to talk about while they're packin' their shit to go an' find somethin' that suits 'em better, because I don't have time for a single damn one of 'em, and neither do you."
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AN: (This is just a quick reminder that, for the time being, the "time" on these sections is different. That time difference, though, is addressed in the section. Thanks for your patience and understanding!)
"I found her in the woods," the woman said. "We've been together—I don't know."
"Start figurin' it out," Merle said.
Merle sat on a chair in front of the woman that they'd brought back to Woodbury. They were in the town of Woodbury proper, where Alice had access to every bit of medical equipment and to every bit of medicine they'd found since the world turned to shit.
The woman said her name was Michonne, but Merle wanted to know a bit more about her.
"Who the hell are you, anyway?" Michonne asked, raising her lip at Merle.
"I'm her husband," Merle said.
"Her husband's dead," Michonne said. "She told me about it when I figured out she was pregnant. So—try again. Who are you?"
"I'm her husband, Sweet Cheeks," Merle said. "And I ain't as fuckin' dead as she thought I was, I reckon. How long you been with her?"
"Couple months," Michonne said.
"She was alone?" Merle asked.
"I could probably answer your questions better if I had my hands," Michonne said. Her hands, at the moment, were straight down by her side and taped to the chair.
"I give you your damn hands," Merle said. "But what's the first thing you done, huh? You come around, and I said for you to watch your ass an' stay calm. The first thing you done was haul off and hit my ass. Popped me right in the damned face. And if that weren't bad enough—because I was willin' to forgive you a lil' love tap—you hauled off an' hit somebody else. Now you done gone and got your ass a reputation."
"You don't have anything better to do than to bother me?" Michonne asked, clearly annoyed by Merle recounting her poor behavior for her to hear and reflect upon.
Merle lit a cigarette.
"No," he said. "I don't. Got run outta there 'cause Al said I was underfoot an' she'll come get me in a few minutes. I couldn't hardly stand it, an' I was gettin' on her nerves. She said Andrea's dehydrated as shit an' she couldn't get an IV goin' on her. Whole damn thing is makin' me jumpy that she won't wake up. I ain't even got to really touch her good—hold her. Let her know I'm here. She may not even know it, yet, that I'm here."
Michonne stared at him. He didn't care. He wanted to know what she knew about Andrea—what had happened to her since he'd last seen her, how she'd ended up with the woman, and so on—but he didn't really care if she refused to answer him. Really, she was there, and she wasn't going anywhere until Philip decided what was best to do with her—and right now she was showing herself to be a real nutjob—so Merle figured he might as well entertain himself with trying to find out if she was some kind of crazy-ass threat or not.
"Was Andrea alone when you found her?" Merle asked, pressing her a bit more. He thought he heard something. He glanced back toward the door, beyond which, Alice was doing her best to help Andrea. Nobody came. The door didn't open and there was no other sound. He flicked his eyes back to Michonne.
"She's dehydrated and she's probably pretty hungry," Michonne said. "She's been sick almost since I found her. It keeps getting worse."
"Why ain't you told Al all that when she was tryin' to talk to you?"
"You're out there just killing people," Michonne said. "You—scare Andrea badly enough that she loses the last hold she had on consciousness…"
"Surprised her, maybe," Merle said, interrupting her explanation of why she didn't trust them. "Shocked her. Ain't scared her. Not scared. She's my damned wife an' she loved my ass. Once upon a damn time she did, at least. If all this—if it ain't changed her. She loved me. I didn't fuckin' scare her."
Michonne backed up in her chair as far as she could. Merle realized he was getting a bit more wound up than he meant to be.
"Sorry," he mumbled, correcting himself. "But—I ain't scared her. I didn't hurt her. I wouldn't hurt her."
He thought he saw a shift in Michonne's features. Her expression softened just a little, maybe.
"You didn't hurt her," Michonne said. "But—I didn't know what your intentions were. Not toward her, and not toward me. I still don't."
"Didn't kill nobody out there that weren't already dead—and raisin' up again—or that weren't never gettin' up unless it was as one of them damned monsters," Merle said. "Ain't killin' you, either. Wouldn't even have your ass taped up as you are if you could be trusted not to attack people every damn time chance you get."
"She was alone when I found her," Michonne said. "Except for the baby, of course."
"She say what happened to her?" Merle asked.
"Fire. Walkers—as she calls them. She said that everyone left. It was just her, and she had to run to save herself, and to save her baby."
"She tell you…" Merle stopped. He didn't know if he could finish the rest of the question that was hanging on the tip of his tongue. He didn't know if he wanted to finish it.
He didn't have to decide. When he heard the sound from beyond the door, he stood up. He took a final draw on the cigarette he'd been smoking and put it in the ashtray on the table near his chair. He waited, feeling like he watched the door for an eternity.
Then, the door opened and Alice stood there.
"You gotta tell me she's OK," Merle said.
"She's not out of the woods," Alice said. "And—she's not awake. But you can come in, Merle. You can see her."
"Touch her?"
Alice smiled at him.
"You can touch her, too, just—be gentle."
"Hey—what about me?" Michonne asked, sliding her chair around as she tried to move in her currently very-bound condition.
"Someone'll come for ya," Merle said, heading into the room where Alice was going to allow him to see Andrea. "I'll—send someone to cut'cha loose."