Jocelyn, Michonne's friend, has a group with many kids. It seems odd to me, so many children, without as many adults, but who am I to judge? I see their eyes land on my bump, Michonne's bump, and Daryl's protective nature. I feel the cold chill I normally get when someone I love is in danger, but they all seem so normal. Survivors, by nature, are watchful. It's what keeps them alive. At least that's what I tell myself over and over.

Judith and our other young ones, kids I've helped teach and read to, have a bonfire and sleepover with the newcomers. Innocent, or so it seems. Why then, as Daryl sleeps comfortably next to me, can't I let the chill be overcome by his warm? Why can't I fall off to sleep too?

I tell myself, as I creep down the hallway and out the front door, that I'm only going to make sure that Judith has fallen asleep in the company of these strangers. It's when I'm getting closer that I feel a sharp pain in my head and then darkness takes me under.

When I come to, I'm in the infirmary. The pain is terrible. From my head down to my toes and I can't seem to move. What the literal fuck? And then I realize that I feel no movement from my baby. Nothing. Usually when I first wake up, or when I'm coming awake, the baby is so active that I feel like I'm going to pee myself. Nothing. And I remember going to check on Judith and the world spins and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"Hey," I guess I moved, flinched or groaned. It's Michonne, and she's holding tight to my hand. "You're awake."

"What happened?" My voice is hoarse and dry. "Why am I in the infirmary?"

She sighs, grabbing a cup of water from the side table and helping me sit up. I realize that my bump, usually so full and active is still so horribly quiet. "Jocelyn, her people, they-" She took a deep breath and after I drank helped me lay back down. "They took the children." I tried to sit back up. "No, Jessi, it's fine. We got everyone back." But I can see, in the way she won't meet my eyes that something is wrong.

"Judith?" My voice broke, my fear so very strong.

"She's fine, Jessi." I saw Michonne swallow hard. "They killed one of ours, and left you-" I waited, wondering if-

"Daryl." My voice was a breath. If it wasn't Judith, then Daryl. He was one of ours. Did they murder him?

She shook her head and took my hand in hers. "No, honey, not Daryl." I was confused. Then what was so terrible that she couldn't look at me? "It's your baby." My baby?

I felt my heart clench and I knew. It wasn't moving. "My baby?" I felt my eyes sting. "Mom?"

Michonne finally looked into my face and I saw it. The pain of loss, a pain she knew. Her eyes were shining with tears. "Siddiq, he realized yesterday, when we brought you in." Yesterday? Fuck. "He's going to have to help you-"

I was gasping for air. "Where's Daryl?" And then I saw him, in the doorway, holding Judith. "I'm sorry." The tears were blurring my eyes. I was sobbing. I'd done it. I'd failed so terribly at the ONE thing we both wanted. "I'm sorry."

Daryl handed Judith to Michonne and pulled me upright into his arms. "It's OK, Jessi, we can try again." He was kissing my hair, promising me that this wasn't our only shot at our family.

It was our only shot. If I'd lost my baby during the time before, there would have been a way to induce my labor. I would have been able to give birth, naturally, and no harm no foul. This wasn't the time before. And Siddiq, while a great medic, was NOT a OB/GYN with a full arsenal of medication at his disposal.

I ended up having a flash of Lori's fear and death. Somehow, my baby did not turn, perhaps babies are slower in turning? Perhaps I got insanely lucky. What I wasn't lucky in was having a cesarean that didn't end in at least partial tragedy. My tragedy wasn't death. It was simply an end to my ability to have children.

I will not go back through the pain of having that surgery performed. I will not graphically recall the blood and the fear and the pain. I won't allow myself to remember finding out that Siddiq hadn't been completely successful and that I would never get to have a child by Daryl, or anyone for that matter.

I survived. My baby didn't. A tiny girl whose brain had to be pierced just in case. A little girl that would never play in Alexandria, never be given a piggy back ride by me or her daddy, a little girl that I couldn't even name because my pain was so overwhelming.

Once I was well enough to move, I walked carefully back through Alexandria, a fog of grief and barely noticed anyone or their expressions. I made my way back to the house I shared with Michonne, Daryl, and Judith. I walked to my room, and I tried to focus on Judith's gift of a painting. Me, Uncle Daryl, Mom, and was that Negan?

"Judith," I pulled her carefully onto my lap, since I was still in pain. "Who is this?" I pointed to the bearded man that was on the other side of my colorful self.

"Negan." She said, snuggling into my chest. Which also ached, because my milk hasn't dried up yet. "He make you feel better."

I closed my eyes and felt my chest tighten. "He does?"

She nodded, and sighed. "Was scared." She whispered and I kissed her curls. "Mommy was bloody." Oh God. "All over. You weren't there." I felt my eyes start to burn. "Uncle Daryl and Mommy not tell me what happened."

Damn it. "I'm sorry, baby." I tried to rock her, but pain flashed through my body. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"You were asleep on the road." Fuck, she'd seen. "I wanted to see you, but they not let me."

My eyes closed again. "You're safe now, Jude. You're safe."

She tilted her face up to look at me. "You sad. Uncle Daryl said-" I saw her look at where my baby had once cradled inside of me. Her tiny hand touched it gently. "No more baby?"

I was crying and hugging her to me when Michonne and Daryl came to the doorway. "Judith, sweetheart, let's let Jessi rest?" Mom offered, walking over and picking her up. "We love you, honey." She was looking at me and I nodded, pushing Judith's painting onto the side table.

She walked out with Judith blowing me a kiss and telling me she loved me. Daryl was leaning against the wall beside the door. "Get some rest, Jessi." I sighed, and started to lay down. "I'm gonna go back to searching." I closed my eyes and knew, even as he was saying it, that he didn't want to be here with me. Not now. "Maybe I can find-"

I nodded, rolling over so he was confronted with my back. "OK, be safe." I couldn't offer more. Not now. Not after failing so spectacularly.

"I love you." He said quietly and I nodded. If you loved me, I wanted to scream, then you'd stay. But I didn't. He needed time to grieve in his own way. And being alone was Daryl's way.

"Me too," I offered, but I wasn't sure he'd waited. Or if he'd heard.

I healed. Physically, and as mentally as I could. I had to. Mom was growing closer to her due date, and I had to be there to help. I wanted to be there. I'd watched Judith be born, traumatizing though it was, and I wanted to see my newest sibling come into this world.

Daryl was seen less and less. We drifted further and further apart. And between the grief I felt over the loss of our baby, the excitement I allowed to take its place in part at the impending arrival of Mom's baby, I didn't get to visit Negan.

My little brother, Rick Grimes Jr came into this world with a lusty scream and I swore that I could see Dad and Carl in his tiny face. I see Michonne, and my heart nearly explodes with love. He doesn't replace my little girl, but he's wonderful.

I'm walking home, after his birth, when I decide that it's time to see Negan. The guard barely looks at me and I go inside, the darkness of his cell pisses me off. Light isn't a luxury, so he should have some. I'll have to talk to Mom about it later.

"Come to show me your little one?" His voice, sounding hoarse from disuse, is quiet. My heart pounds at the reminder of my loss, but I can't be angry with him for not knowing. I am appreciative that no one told him.

"No." I answer sadly, taking the single hard chair and moving it closer to his cell. "I don't think you can see the cemetery from here."

"Cemetery?" He takes in my appearance in the dimness. "Oh, Jessi, no." Strange, he sounds like he cares. As though he feels the pain I feel. "I'm sorry, sweetheart." He's moved so he's standing at the bars, his hands reaching through, but I don't take them.

"Yeah, I-" I feel a sob building and force it down. Today is a happy day, I remind myself, think of little RJ. "She didn't make it." I take a deep breath. "My new baby brother did." I smile, remembering his tiny fist. "There's a new Rick Grimes in town."

Negan kneels on the hard floor and looks up at me. "Sweetheart, let's go back to the baby." I shake my head. No, I won't. "You need to talk about it." Shit, why? "Tell me."

And I do. What I've pieced together about the night Jocelyn's people kidnapped Judith and the others. About the head wound they gave me, about being found JUST in time to save me, but not the baby. How my little sister and the other kids, including one of Jocelyn's group was saved. About my cesarean operation and the resulting damage. And how, even after all that, I wanted to just think about RJ and Judith.

"Where's Daryl?" It was quiet, but loaded. "Why isn't he here, making sure you're talking?"

"He suffered a loss too, Negan." It sounded lame, but it was true. "Daryl does better on his own to process."

He nodded, sensing no doubt that I wasn't in the mood to rehash his feelings on Daryl's failures where I was concerned. "I can't have kids either." It was quiet, but just as pained as how I felt when I learned that my hopes were gone. "Lucille and I tried, and tried. Nothing. I shoot blanks."

"Why did the wife-" It was weird, but I was curious about the pregnancy test I'd seen, which led me to Alexandria's cache of tests.

"Sherry." He nodded. "She, before she agreed to-" He sighed. "Her and Dwight-"

"Oh." They'd run off together, but I'd assumed, god knew what. "Guess we're a sad pair." I gave a dark chuckle. "Both genetic dead ends."

Negan shook his head. "No. We can't make babies, Jessi, but that doesn't mean we can't make an impact." I snorted. "OK, not necessarily the best fucking impacts in my case, but you, oh, Jessica Grimes, you are more than fucking remarkable."

I felt better, slightly, by the time I'd kissed him goodbye and walked home. Judith came rushing to greet me, and I told her all about RJ and how she could meet him the next day. Smiling at the woman who'd stayed with her while I was with Michonne, trying hard to ignore the pity I could see in her eyes, I closed the front door and got us both some dinner.