Disclaimer: I own nothing.
––
After emptying her stomach and dry heaving for about twenty minutes, Maggie coiled up in the shower. She shivered under the warm water and pushed her hair back from her face, remembering the last time she'd showered in here. She was pregnant, happy, scrubbing the dirt from Glenn's body and polishing his hair with shampoo. What she wouldn't give to go back to that day.
She thought about her screaming at Carol again, a flash of slapping her hand away played in her mind, but she didn't linger. If she did, she might regret it, and right now, she didn't have room for that in her heart. If the intensity of this agony ever lessened, if she could pick herself back up again, perhaps she could think about it. Maybe even speak to Carol. She was too tired right now. She was so tired, but she knew wouldn't sleep. Her mind wouldn't shut off. It kept replaying that hellish day, and Tobin's questions, over and over on a loop. One baby gone, another one forming...
––
Denise heard pounding on the front door, and she slipped out off the couch, answering it. It was Tobin and Rick, wet to the bone, with Glenn slumped between them. She showed them in, Tobin and Rick carefully placed Glenn on the bed, and Denise asked what happened.
"We don't know. We found him like this." Rick combed a hand through his hair to keep his bangs from falling in his face. "Tobin said he'd been workin' all day and for all we know all night without stop."
"If that's true, and he didn't stop to eat, he could have been on a ladder and gotten light-headed. He fell, hitting his head with a tool he may have been working with." She shrugged a shoulder. "His pulse is strong."
"And he doesn't have any bites," Rick pointed out to her. "I double checked."
"Apart from this injury, I don't see anything else wrong with him." His pupils were responsive to light, his pulse was strong, and he was breathing normally. "This wound isn't all that deep."
"That's good." Tobin wiped water from his brow.
Rick cleared his throat. "I'll go get him some dry clothes."
"Have you told Maggie?" Denise looked up from cleaning the cut.
"No, we only found him about five minutes ago on the site."
"Well, it's pretty late, and she might be sleeping. If she is, let her slept. If not, bring her over with you."
A nod as response, Rick headed over to Maggie and Glenn's. He was closer to the back entrance, so he used it. He didn't call out to her and tried to not make any noise, padding up the stairs and to the master bedroom. It was as silent as the grave, and he saw Maggie curled up in bed. He pondered whether to wake her or not, but something told him not to. He took clothes that were Glenn's, finding a bag to cover them in the kitchen, and he was once again in the clinic a moment later.
Denise and Tobin had moved Glenn to the bed Carl had been lying in after he was shot, his shirt and pants had been removed, and he appeared to be sleeping, the cut uncover so it could breathe. He disposed of the bag and placed the clothes at the end of the bed. He gripped the metal frame and sighed. Glenn needed a better coping system, and Rick couldn't offer him any. He damn near lost his mind to the point of no return when he lost Lori, and had Carl not been with him when he thought he'd lost Judith...
He didn't blame Glenn. He only hoped the young man woke up with his head on straight again.
– – –
"What do you mean, he wasn't conscious?" Maggie pulled a shirt down over her tank top, listening to Rick tell her about what happened to Glenn. "Is he okay? Is he all right?"
"He woke up about a half hour ago."
Maggie stopped moving and swallowed. "He's up?"
"Yeah. Denise is with him now. They're talkin', gettin' food into him."
She expelled a relieved sigh. "Could I see him? I mean, is Denise talkin' to him about the accident, or...other things?"
"I'd give 'em a minute. Why don't you have some breakfast? There's oatmeal that was made for Glenn, and there's a lot left, so you should have some."
She gave a nod, but likely wouldn't be eating any of it.
"Add some apples, a bit of cinnamon," Rick suggested. "Ain't too bad."
"Michonne makes you apple cinnamon oatmeal?" Maggie's smile was weak, but thoroughly amused.
He chuckled. "No, no. Today it was Carol. She was up at the crack of dawn like always, made us breakfast, and I think she's out with the garden group right now. How that woman gets so early with so much energy, I don't know."
Her smile shriveled up. "Carol?"
"Yeah."
"Mornin' sickness?" Maggie inquired. "Is that what had her up?"
He paled. "Y—you know?"
She nodded. "I found out yesterday, when she fainted on Tobin."
"We were tryin' to keep it hush. After what you and Glenn found out," Rick hastily explained.
"It's okay, Rick."
"You don't have to lie. It's gotta hurt."
"It does, but my pain doesn't change facts. Carol's pregnant, and I'm not anymore. It's not as simple as that, I know, but...again, doesn't change how it is." She folded her arms across her chest. "Thanks for tellin' me about Glenn. I'll have breakfast then go to him."
"If you need anythin'," Rick offered.
"I know." Maggie waited until Rick was out of sight before falling back onto the bed and burying her face in her palms. She wanted to go see Glenn. She wanted to see him and ask Denise on his health, but she wasn't sure she could. The last time she and Glenn were together, it was after they'd gotten the news from Harlan. It was, what? Day three of them being apart? She didn't know how to feel about seeing him again, lying there on the bed, like she'd been lying there in Harlan's office. It'd be too familiar to the worst day of her life. Of their lives, really. She didn't know how to even talk to Glenn, let alone take his hand and chastise him for being so stupid. She didn't know how to be there for Glenn, not after she'd...failed him and herself so massively only three days ago.
Tears burned in the back of her eyes, and she snuffled. She didn't know how to do this. Basic comfort. After what they went through, after what they'd lost, what her body had made them lose... how could she be in the same room as him? What did he think of her? Did he blame her? Hate her despite loving her too?
Those mere questions caused a tremble to spread through her body and vacation in her hands. She wept deeply. How was she going to talk to him? How were they ever going to be the same as they were? She failed him...her body...and now... It was her fault he was out there, working himself to death. If her body had been better, or stronger, the baby would have survived. He'd be here with her now, not on a bed in the clinic with a cut on his forehead. He'd be happy and sane and asking what names she liked to use for their child.
But he wasn't okay. He wasn't happy. He wasn't entirely sane. She wasn't, so there was no way he was. He was out there, day and night, extending the walls with and without help, through sunshine and the storm from hell they'd endured last night. He was out there to be away from her, and she didn't blame him. If she could separate herself from this body, she would have the moment Harlan's eyes fell and all oxygen was sucked out of the room and out of her lungs...
She couldn't see him. Not like this, not right now. She couldn't. He probably didn't want to see her, so it was for the best that she keep away. She muffled her sobs with her hands, curling up on the mattress, the ring heavy on her finger.
– – –
"Is this the part where you tell me why you pulled me from my job?" Carol tugged the gloves she'd been given off her fingers.
"We still have a lot to talk about." Tobin handed her bottle of water.
"Well, where do you want to begin?" She avoided eye contact, sipping the water from the bottle he'd given her.
"Say this sticks, who does the baby stay with?" he asked. "Or...do you want to live together? I have the room, and I don't mind. There's two spare bedrooms, or we could move the baby in with you."
A lump formed in her throat, and she drank more. "What did you have in mind?" She twisted the cap shut, half the water gone now, but still her throat was bone dry. "Which would be better for you?"
"I want to be involved, as much as possible, but if you'd be comfortable at your home then that's fine."
"Uh...I... I think... Tobin, why don't we hold off on this talk until after my next visit to Hilltop? He might be able to tell me how far along I am, and if the baby is...safe."
"Your next visit?"
"Yes, because like we talked about there's still a chance I could lose the baby, so let's just wait. I don't want to make plans for something that may not work out."
"That makes sense." He scrubbed his hand down his chin and twisted toward her. "Do you want me to go with you?"
"What?" She faced him.
"For your appointment, do you want me to go with you?"
"No! No!" She briefly closed her eyes and tried to clarify her hasty response. "What I mean is not this time. I'll have Rick and Denise with me. Maybe for the next one, if it all checks out."
He nodded. "I'd like to come to the next one."
"Okay." She offered a weak smile. "I should get back. So should you."
"Do you want me to walk you?"
"It's about ten feet back that way." She smirked. "I think I can make there on my own."
He chuckled. "Okay." He paused. "Oh, here. I...I don't know if you want to this or not." He held out the pregnancy test. "I thought it'd be best to give it you to deal with."
"I'll throw it out." She accepted it and buried it in her pocket. "I'll see you later." She turned on her heel and walked toward the garden, hearing him jogging the opposite way. She cut a right to the house, dropping the bottle on the counter in the kitchen, and she barely made it to the trashcan.
"Carol?"
Her heart nearly stopped at the sound of his voice. Were she not upchucking her breakfast, she might have been able to speak to him. At least she could think of what to say while she barfed. She didn't know what Rick told him, or why Rick asked him to check in on her in the RV, but she hoped he told her so she could work off that lie. She didn't want him getting anymore suspicious.
"Hey, easy." He set an arm around her back once she'd finish puking, and he guided her over to a chair, handing her a glass of water. He'd have gone for the bottle had it not been mostly empty.
"Thanks."
"Still aren't feelin' good?" He set his hand on her forehead, and it was warm to the touch. "Have you been to see Denise?"
"I don't need to. Daryl, it's nothing."
"You're pukin' your guts up, and it's nothin'?" He shook his head at her. "Don't lie to me, all right?"
"I'm not, and I can handle it."
"You shouldn't have to. I can get Denise."
"No, don't. She's with Glenn, and I'm better now. That was all I had in me."
"Does she have the right meds? I can go out and try to more. We didn't strip that last place completely bare, might have missed somethin' you need."
"Don't trouble yourself, Daryl. I don't need any medicine. I just need to lie down for a bit. It's the heat and lack of water I've had. I've been helping out in the garden, and all these layers were stupid to wear." He snorted a laugh at that. "It'll pass."
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Thank you for the water." She pushed herself up and shuffled toward the stairs, a soft thud escaping her attention.
"Wait, Carol, you dropped this."
She froze, her heart came to a screeching stop remembering Tobin had given her the pregnancy test and something just fell out of her pocket. She braced herself and spun around to face him, nearly crying with relief at the sight of the gardening gloves Trudy had given her. "Thanks."
"You oughta lie down now. You're pale. Well, paler."
"Yeah." She gripped the gloves and backed out of the room.
Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. Yeah, that wasn't normal. He'd never seen Carol throw up until now. He'd seen her sick, fighting the most decayed walkers, but nothing. She had a strong gut, and not even a cold or flu made her throw up. If it was a bug, it was a strong one. Meaning she did need medicine, and she wasn't taking any. She didn't want to bother Denise, but he was going to. She wasn't going to suffer in silence, and if he had to dig through her room for signs of her illness, he just might. If it kept her alive, kept her on her feet, he'd do it.
For now, he'd have a word with Denise. She was good with healthy shit, might be able to make a tea or soup for Carol to strengthen her immune system.
––
"She hasn't spoken to you?" Glenn ate another big bite of oatmeal.
"No." Denise smoothed ointment over his cut, pulling her hand away when he winced. "Sorry."
"It's fine."
"You can talk to me, if you want." She spread a little more over the cut and wiped her finger on a tissue. "It might help."
"Help? How could talking help?" He set the bowl on the nightstand beside him. "Our baby's still gone. I don't...know how I even feel about it."
"What do you mean?"
"When I got her home, I put her to bed, and...the pain was...unbearable. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I couldn't...think about anything else. But now...I don't feel anything." He ran a hand through his hair, minding the cut. "I can't be with her, feeling like this. I mean, how could I help her when I don't have a clue what's going on with me?"
"You don't have to always help her alone," Denise reminded him. "You have people who care about you, who'd love to help you. I'd like to help you both."
"I can't look at her, Denise." His eyes sliced into hers. "I can't, because...she was crying so hard at Hilltop. She was looking to me for support, and I couldn't offer her any. It's been days, and I still can't."
"You're being too hard on yourself. There is no easy way to heal, or to cope a loss like this. Give yourself time to understand it. You and Maggie have to heal both together and separately. It's different for you both. You both lost your child, but Maggie was carrying the baby."
"And I couldn't do anything to protect them."
"You did everything you could."
"I didn't keep her here while we took care of Hilltop's problems," he hissed. "I didn't make her stay behind. I brought my pregnant wife to...to fight assholes who bashed in someone's brains as a conversation starter. That's what I did. I didn't fight with her for her to stay here. I just let her come." He gripped his jaw, his teeth grinding together. That was the first strike, he was sure of it. The stress of the kidnapping, the energy and force it took to kill those people and the walkers, the close call...
"I should have done more, but I didn't. It's my fault. God."
"No, no, you can't think like that!" Denise held eye contact. "It wasn't your fault or Maggie's. It was a terrible accident, Glenn. It...happens, and it's not fair or right. It doesn't make sense, but it wasn't yours or Maggie's fault. I promise."
Tears shined in his muddy eyes. "But I didn't protect my child," his voice broke. "I couldn't."
"You did everything you could, Glenn." He slouched forward and bawled, and she rubbed his back. "It's better to let it out. You'll be okay."
He wasn't sure so. He cared about Maggie much more than he cared himself. Now Maggie wasn't all right, wasn't anywhere close to being all right, so he wasn't. Until she was okay again, he wouldn't be either.
– – –
Maggie barely made it to the toilet before she tossed her cookies. She hadn't had anymore more than broths, so hot liquid wormed up her throat and into the toilet. She coughed and gagged when there was nothing left, and she flushed it down.
Her back kissed the cool side of the tub, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. She sighed and wondered why she was throwing up so much. Her late night walk in the rain might have made her sick, or her own disgusting envy. God, the way she treated Carol after what Carol did for her when those assholes kidnapped them, after knowing Carol was struggling with killing, after Carol fucking offered her dry, clean clothes so she wouldn't catch a cold.
She hung her head and groaned. She didn't want to be this woman. She didn't want to be envious to the point of dark thoughts. She didn't want feel this all-consuming hate for Carol simply because she was pregnant. That was all. There was no logic behind her hate whatsoever, and she didn't want to hate her. She didn't want to feel this way toward Carol. It wasn't her fault she was pregnant at the same time Maggie lost her child. It wasn't like Carol had killed her baby. Hell, without Carol, her and Glenn's baby wouldn't have even existed. She and Glenn wouldn't be alive here to try again. They would have food for the Termites. Or she would have been gutted along with the baby when those assholes took them.
She shuddered, bringing her legs in. No, she couldn't go on like this. She couldn't be like this. She wasn't raised this way, nor did she want to grow this way of her own choosing. A new command I give to you: love one another as I have loved you. She told her daddy that on the farm. Love one another. She did love Carol. She loved her a lot. She wasn't angry with Carol, not really. It was herself and her traitorous body she hated. It wasn't Carol.
Love one another. She moistened her dry, cracked lips, swallowing. It wasn't going to be easy. It was going to be torment and hell and maybe she couldn't go through with it, but Carol was family. If she could lock the hurt away, put on a brave face, she could be there for her throughout her pregnancy. Be what Carol was to her during her short pregnancy. She wasn't there yet, but she couldn't be begrudging and irate forever. For Carol's sake and the sake of the new baby that would be joining their family, she couldn't be. Hatred was a curved blade, and she didn't want the new member of their family to feel that. She'd rather die than have that little baby pick up on her self-loathing. That wasn't something a baby should pick up on.
She wiped her eye with the palm of her hand. It'd been about three, four days since she lost the baby, and three or four days since Carol found out she was pregnant. She couldn't be around her right now, but she couldn't leave things like this. She'd been so hostile with her, and she'd seen the readiness to pounce in Michonne's eyes at her ire. She needed to apologize somehow. Words weren't enough, not for what she said, not for the thoughts in her head. No, she needed something to give to Carol to let her know they were still family and she was so sorry.
– – –
Carol opened the door when someone knocked and didn't enter when she called to them, and she found Maggie on the other side with her hands behind her back. She hadn't anticipated this turn of events. She stepped aside, Maggie entered, making sure whatever was behind her back remain hidden, and Carol closed the door.
"I'd ask how you're feeling, but I can imagine you're sick of that question." Carol motioned for Maggie to sit, if she wanted.
"Good call." Maggie met her eyes. "I'm sorry for the awful things I said to you."
"You're in pain. We all say and do stupid things when we're suffering."
"That doesn't excuse what I said," Maggie persisted. "I shouldn't have said those things. You've lost a child too, and it was worse than me. You had Sophia for years, held her and loved her and taught her, and I didn't even know what my baby looked like."
"That doesn't matter. You lost your child, your baby, and I lost mine. It's the same."
"I brought you somethin', as a peace offerin'." She held out a calendar. "I know we don't have a clue what month it is, but this is a way for you to keep track of things. I uh, marked out the last couple days, so you can count the days until you see Harlan next. Once he tells you how far along you are, you can work out a due date. Maybe. I dunno. I just...I thought... if it goes well, you'd want to. Or, you know, you can use at least keep track of the weeks for till your next visit."
Carol looked at the 2010 car calendar. "Thank you, Maggie. That's...really sweet."
"And this." She produced the small, knitted bunny Glenn had found for her a while back. "It was for our baby, but I thought you'd like it."
"I couldn't."
"No, please. I wanna give the newest member of our family a gift." She smiled with tears in her eyes. "C'mon, let spoil the baby just a little."
She noticed the young woman was quaking, and her voice was high. She was on the edge of crashing, and Carol knew the feeling all too well. She knew how difficult it was to be here, to say what'd been said, to offer her these things. She'd been there. Once she saw Sophia stumble out of the barn, she was there, and then finding out Lori was pregnant. Lori's whose little boy had survived being shot. Lori whose husband came back from a coma. Had she not had faith back then, she would be where Maggie was right now.
Carol gulped. "Well, okay, but don't tell anyone."
"My lips are sealed." She covered her mouth with her hand.
"Oh." Carol pulled Maggie into a warm embrace. "I'm so sorry, Maggie."
"Me too." She buried her face in her shoulder, her hands digging into her back.
"Take it from someone who's been there," Carol murmured by her ear, "it does get better."
With that, the damn gates flooded open for what felt like the millionth time, and Maggie couldn't keep the tears away. Carol hushed her and stroked her hair, and Maggie felt...like it was okay. She didn't know if it'd last, but right now, she felt connected to someone else. She wasn't isolated in a house, crying into wrinkled sheets in a pitch-black room. She had people. She had Carol, who not only understood but had been there. Hearing her say those words...truly lifted some of the darkness of her shoulders. There was plenty left, but if Carol could get through it, so could she. Maybe they could even get through this together.
Maggie wrapped her arms around Carol's shoulders now, face still buried in her shoulder, and she gripped the rough cardigan Carol wore. Her stomach flipped when she felt Carol's stomach against hers, and she dig her nails in more at knowing there was a baby in there, but not in her anymore. God, she didn't know if she could be around her and watch this baby grow. She wasn't sure if she was strong enough for that, but she knew without a second thought she wasn't strong enough to hate Carol and not grow to despise herself more. Her faith in God was shot, but the faith she had in her family was unwavering. This baby was family, and she'd fight with her last breath to keep it alive. She was going to ensure this baby arrived healthy and strong, like Judith, only Carol would hold her baby and love her baby. Carol would be alive too, healthy and strong. She'd make sure of it.
A/N: I know a lot of you are grumpy about Daryl not knowing, and frankly so am I, but it's been laid out as such for a reason. That said, I have a surprise for you: it's in the next chapter. In fact, it's the whole chapter! (Also, if you please would wish me luck. It's a big day for me, and I need some luck.) As always, have an amazing day and let's hope my anxiety doesn't give me a stroke.
