Disclaimer: I own nothing.

– – –

Rick and Michonne were about to send out a search party for the couple when they returned, Carol still looked ill, so Michonne escorted her to Denise, and Daryl assured Rick she and the kid were all right. He saw Tobin in the distance, and he knew he needed to make peace with the man, but he had weeks till her next appointment, so he'd think of what to say in that time.

"Why didn't you bring her back?" Rick inquired. "That's what you said you were goin' do when you stormed out of here."

"Things got...mixed up." He met his eyes. "She's all right, and so am I. Why the hell are you so pissed?"

"I'm not pissed. I just... I was worried." He stepped back. "Maggie was worried. She damn near went out to track you both down. I know Carol needs to do her own thing, but...there are people here who really need to see her and the baby safe."

"She ain't a dog, man. You can't keep her in a cage."

"I know. I don't want to. I just need you to...be there for her. Y'all are close, and she's had enough of me. I've had enough of me getting on her, to be honest, so it's you. Don't linger, but try and keep her within the walls, and if she wants to go for a walk or whatever the hell y'all did, go with her and take supplies."

He nodded. "We did just fine out there, Rick."

"Of course you did." He smirked. "You mind showerin'? You reek like fish."

Daryl snorted. "Shut the hell up."

Rick chuckled and walked back to the house with him, Michonne and Carol reached Denise's office, and Enid was in the middle of her studies. She had headphones on, listening to music on a CD player, and Michonne called to Denise. They waited about ten minutes before she came downstairs, looking like she'd just rolled out of bed, and her lips formed a line at the sight of Carol.

"Here." Denise sat her down and reached for the thermometer. "When did you get in?"

"A few minutes ago." Carol swallowed hard.

"Have you had any water or food in the past few minutes?"

"No. I couldn't keep anything down, so I told Daryl not to give me anything."

"Okay." She placed the thermometer under her tongue. "What all happened yesterday? Has she told you anything?"

"No." Michonne crossed her arms. "Daryl reeks like fish, though."

"Did you get into the water?" Denise asked Carol, who shook her head, and she felt her forehead. "She's a little warm."

"You think she's sick?"

"She could be." Denise wondered if the fish was cooked properly, or if it was something else she'd had that day. She knew Daryl wouldn't risk under cooking the fish and hurting the baby, not after he spent the entire morning a couple days ago asking about those oat cakes when she wanted to discuss the hospital run. She also knew Michonne didn't have any food to give Carol that wasn't bad or could affect her like this, so what was the problem?

The thermometer beeped, Denise checked it and saw she did have a fever, and Carol set her hand on her stomach, wondering what had happened to her stomach since last night. She woke up with dreadful morning sickness, she had to literally lean on Daryl most of the way home, and now even the thought of putting food near her mouth made her dry heave. She didn't remember this happening with Sophia, and she hadn't lost the baby. Had she? Maggie was burning up and weak before she lost her baby, so...was that what was happening now?

"Did Daryl give you anything to eat?"

"One of those cakes." She nearly puked at the thought of it. "Why?"

"Did you eat some of it before you ate the fish?"

"Yeah."

Denise smiled a little. "It's okay then. It's just...not settling right. It's happened to me before, when Aiden and Nick brought back a boar. I'd eaten one of the cakes for dinner, but Deanna insisted I eat some meat. Though mine chose a more...South exit."

Michonne chuckled. "Sorry." She couldn't stop though.

"So, it's not the baby?" Carol flattened her hand over her stomach. "It's not in danger?"

"You might be dehydrated, but I'll be here with you. I want you to stay here overnight, and I'll keep an eye on you. I'll also kick Daryl's ass, if you want me too."

A weak smile crossed her lips. "It wouldn't on Daryl, and I just want to lie down for a bit."

"You can take the guest bedroom." Denise set the thermometer down. "I made up the bed last night for Enid, because she keeps falling asleep here, but feel free to rest up there. Or down here in one of the rooms."

"I don't think that much movement will be good for my stomach. I'll stay down."

"I'll grab you a spare pillow then." Denise motioned for Michonne to show her to the beds with a kind smile and headed upstairs.

"You sure you're all right?" Michonne opened the door for Carol, who immediately lied down on the bed.

"I'm sure. I just need to sleep this off."

She nodded. "If you need anything or want anything, you know where to find us."

"Thank you." She slid a shaky hand down to her stomach once she was alone and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to calm herself and the ideas popping up in her head, and she swallowed another wave of queasiness.

––

Michonne stepped out of the clinic and found Maggie standing there. She frowned and approached the young woman, seeing worry etched onto her face, and she called to her to get her attention, which seemed to be locked on the floor.

"Are you all right?"

"It's late," she replied. "He's late."

"What's late?" She searched her eyes. "Glenn?"

"Yes. He and Spencer and Aaron should have been back by now. Their first week was the second week for Tara and Heath, and the week we took Carol to Harlan was the second week of their trip. It's been two days since, and I know it's not a big gap, but..." She crossed her arms protectively over her chest. "You know what happened last time. You were there. Things can always go bad."

"They can take care of themselves, Maggie. They probably ran into walkers or...a road block. We ran into a fallen tree when we were taking Carol to Hilltop, so it's not outside the realm of possibilities." She smiled softly. "He'll be back. Tomorrow or the next day, but he'll be back."

Tears filled her eyes, and she rubbed her arms. "Yeah, but it's not the same."

"What do you mean?"

"Us." She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. "He's distant...and so am I. I can't even be in the same room with him, we don't talk to each other more than necessary, and whenever we touch...even for that goodbye hug...it felt like something we were obligated to do as husband and wife, not as a couple who love each other and want to see each other again." Her voice was an airy whisper, and she couldn't keep the tears from showing.

"You lost your child, and you both carry unnecessary blame—"

"I know that," Maggie interjected, her voice breaking. "I know we blame ourselves for not doin' everythin' to keep the baby safe, to keep my body from overworkin' itself, but this isn't about the baby, Michonne. It is, but it's not."

"Okay." She guided Maggie over to the couch and sat her down. "What's going on between you two?"

"Nothin', like I said we barely even talk." She rubbed her hands together, snuffling, and she met her eyes. "And I'm scared I'm gonna lose him too."

"He'll come back."

"No, not by death." She lifted her hand to her mouth to keep from wailing, and tears rolled down her cheeks, and Michonne scooted closer, taking her other hand to transfer any strength she could offer to the young woman. "I meant as my husband."

"Implausible."

"No, it's not." She lowered her hand and wiped at her eyes. "Michonne, it's been weeks since we've been happy together. I haven't seen him laugh or crack a smile, and he never makes eye contact with me. It's like we're strangers, and we don't know how to act around each other.

"Even on the farm before we knew each other, he never avoided me. He was kind of a loser." She laughed in memory. "An adorable little geek who did whatever he was told, expect keep a damn secret."

Michonne smiled faintly at the first actual laugh Maggie had given since the miscarriage and squeezed her hand.

"He told me he didn't want me in danger, and he told me later that he loved me. It was the first time he'd told me that, and it was after we lost the farm, lost Jimmy and Patricia, and I didn't know if Daddy or Beth made it out." More tears sprung up in her eyes at the mention of her fallen family. "I wasn't okay with it just bein' us out there against all those things, you know? But now... after we lost the prison, I was okay with it just as long as I had him by my side. I don't...even have that now."

"He'll always love you, and he isn't going to leave you."

"If this continues, it won't matter how much we love each other." She gulped down another sob. "Everythin' we had is gone now. It left when we lost the baby, and I'm not sure we can get it back. I don't know how we're going to...find each other again, or if there's a chance for us anymore."

"You will. You and Glenn... It might take time, but you'll find each other and find that spark again. Don't give up."

"I couldn't give up on him."

Michonne grinned. "That's good, because he couldn't give up on you either."

She smiled feebly. "Thank you."

"It's no problem." She hugged her. "I'll go get you some tissues."

"I'm okay. I just need some time to myself."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She released her and forced a smile. "Go. You have the wall today, and I need to use the bathroom."

"If you need to talk again, I'm here. Denise is here."

"I know."

Michonne ducked out for her shift, Maggie dragged herself to the bathroom, and she locked the door. She sat on the edge of the tub, her eyes falling on her wedding ring, and she bawled. She'd felt like she'd lost a limb or a torso. She'd lost so much already, and she couldn't handle the loss of her marriage. She loved Glenn so much. He was the best part of this world, and as long as she had him, she could endure any storm and any hell. She could survive losing the baby, but only if she had him by her side, only if they could work through it together, but they weren't. They weren't even talking, so how were they going to come back from this? How were they going to find that spark again? She had so many hows and not enough answers.

She buried her face in her hand and hoped this wasn't the beginning of her mourning the end of her marriage.

– – –

Tobin gazed out at the walls they were building, his crew moving around him, and he wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling another trickle down his spine. He wondered what it would look like when it was done. He wondered what it would look like in ten, fifteen years. He wondered what would become of this place once he and every other person he knew right now were gone. He wondered if this place would still be standing. He wondered if his child would be the next leader of the group or the next builder. He wondered so many things, and fear began to creep into his train of thought, a chill coursing down his spine now.

He didn't know what the future held, but he wanted Alexandria to be able to hold up against it. He wanted this town to stand tall and strong and never once waver, never once fall, not like the tower that had brought the wall crashing down. He would put his blood and sweat into building lasting walls, but there were endless options in the world. He didn't know what the future would bring, what villains would come across their gates, and he didn't want this place to be taken from the inside out or outside in. He didn't want his kid to be put in danger ever, so he—they needed to come up with a plan to secure the future. He knew Rick would be on board. He had a son and a baby daughter, so all that was needed now was a plan, an outline, and he could do that. He'd have to do it, if he wanted his son or daughter to be able to grow up in a town filled with good people, not moving from place to place with the group. That was no life, and he wouldn't let that happen to his kid.

He smiled a little to himself, wondering for a moment what his kid would be like. He couldn't imagine what he or she would look like, not knowing who it would favor. He didn't know much about genetics, but the kid would likely get his height, like he'd gotten his from his dad. He knew they'd have lighter eyes, as his were green and Carol's were blue. He hoped they got Carol's eyes. Her eyes were so beautiful and so sapphire, and he imagined a blonde little girl with soft curls and bright eyes smiling up at him. He figured Carol had curly by the way it fluffed up, and he chuckled at how adorable the little girl was.

Or it could be a boy. He remembered how he looked at five, and he hoped the kid was a little cuter than that. He wasn't an ugly kid, not at all, but he had messed up teeth and had to get braces when he was ten, and there were no braces to be had in this new world. He hoped the kid got Carol's teeth. She had an amazing smile, and boy or girl, they'd be lucky to share that same smile. His eyes or her smile or his hair or her nose, it didn't matter. He knew he'd think his child would be the most precious thing in the entire world, and he couldn't wait to meet him or her.

He pried off his glove and pulled the sonogram from his breast pocket, smiling at the little dot that was his child. Of all the mistakes he'd made in this new life, he wouldn't consider this kid to be one of them. It'd be his first kid, and probably his only kid, but still. Well, it wasn't just his; it was his and Carol's kid.

"You done daydreamin'?" Abe called to the man. "We got work to do, and even if we did pay, you ain't pretty enough to just stand there all day!"

Tobin rolled his eyes and slipped the picture back in his pocket, returning to work.

––

Morgan entered the clinic to find a bandage for his arm. He'd built a cell in the "prison" Rick had fashioned in the house where he'd kept the wolf, and he'd injured himself. He didn't want to trouble Denise, but he might have to. He didn't know where everything was, and it all seemed to have been moved around. It could have been a quiz for Enid, as he'd seen them together studying.

There was a clatter in the next room, he spun around, stick ready to attack, and he neared the door, pushing it open to find Carol on the floor, holding her stomach. He dropped to her side, hand on her back, and she was shaking.

"Are you all right?"

She had a layer of sweat coating her brow, dark circles under her eyes, her lips dried and cracked, and she was damn near alabaster. "No," she strained. "I—I think something's wrong—wrong with the baby."