Disclaimer: I own nothing.

– – –

"Do you want to go inside?" He noticed her shudder once more, and she shook her head. "You sure?"

"It's not so cold today. I'm just..." She rolled her eyes at herself. "I'm fine."

"So..." he ran his eyes over her, "you said it might not all be bullshit? What made you decide that?"

She inhaled and pulled her legs in to rests her arms on her. "I've saved...a lot of lives, but I've lost so many precious ones too. I couldn't do anything, just watch it unfold before my eyes, and there always is a balance. I save one life, I lose a life." She'd saved everyone at the CDC to lose Sophia on the road. She saved Mika and Lizzie and Judith in the woods to lose Mika to Lizzie and Lizzie... Then she talked Daryl out of leaving Noah to die only to lose Beth.

He nodded her on.

"But I saved Judith from drowning, and nothing's...nobody's gone." She found her hand caressing her stomach. "Unless I lost the baby, which I know I haven't."

"So, that's why you think it's not bullshit all of a sudden? Because no one died?"

"No, that's only part of it." She swallowed. "It's complicated, and there's nobody else here who could understand. You seem eager to try so...here I am."

He nodded once more and stood up. "Okay then. I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early, at the empty house."

"What?" She squinted up at him. "Why not now?"

"Because I have some things to do today." He smiled at her. "I...I'll have to take a different approach with you."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll find out tomorrow."

She sighed and watched him walk off with some pep in his step, and she rose herself to get inside. She was cold, and she couldn't stand it anymore. She just wanted to curl up in bed and not move. She was sick her of her own bed, however. She felt like she was fusing to it. There weren't any empty rooms right now, at least not one that she could sleep in.

"Hey, Carol." Enid jogged over to her, offering a smile as a greeting as the hey was more to get her attention, and she strolled inside the house after her. "I need a favor."

"What kind of favor?" She stopped just inside to peer at the teenager.

"It's for the puppy. Could you knit, like, a little pillow? I know she'll get bigger, but she's really tiny right now. I just—I want her to be comfortable in the little nest we built for her, and we already stuffed it with a pillow and a blanket, and I don't want to drown her in more material. But a little pillow about her size would be perfect. The one we found at the shop is huge. She's like a speck on it, so I was just hoping..."

"I have some extra yarn."

"You finished the blanket?" She had seen her working on it, they all had, and she was curious to see what shape it was in now that it was completed. "Can I see it?"

"Uh, no. I mean, no, it's not done. I—It's almost done, and Daryl brought me enough yarn to make twenty blankets. I have some time today. I just...need a nap."

"We'll take it whenever you finish. There's no rush."

"Okay."

"Thanks."

"Hey, how are you? Maggie and Glenn left for the run. Are you all alone over there?"

"No. I'm staying with Olivia again for now. I—It's weird to be home alone now. I'm used to Maggie and Glenn being there, or coming in and out. Besides I'm still leaning, Denise left me a lot of work, and it's easier for me. It's quiet, I mean, save for puppy sounds." She shrugged her shoulder. "Carl keeps me company too. He keeps trying to name the puppy. I won't let him."

"Why not?"

"Because Maggie saved her, and Maggie should name her. I—we talked about names, but she had to leave early the next morning, so...I'm gonna wait till she's back." She then pointed to her stomach. "Have you thought of names? If you haven't, don't ask Carl. He'll suggest something terrible."

She chuckled. "He named Judith."

"I guess it was his one good name." She smiled goodbye. "I have class, which I was on my way to, but I had to ask about the pillow. Thank you so much, and I'll make it up to you!"

"You don't...have to," Carol finished to herself as the young girl flew out of the house towards the clinic. Denise must be strict about when her classes start. She'd never seen Enid move that fast before. Granted she spent little time with the teenager. Wait, Denise went on the run. She and Maggie were in charge of meds. So, who was giving Enid her lesson? And how had Carol so quickly forgotten that? Geez, pregnancy brain was moving in rapidly.

She cast her gaze to the stairs and her lip curled upward in disgust at the thought of stewing in her bedroom while making the pillow for the nameless pup. She lowered them and remembered Daryl. His bedroom was empty, and fairly neat. She'd have to carry the supplies down, but she'd be out of her bedroom and in a semi-new environment. And she doubted he'd mind.

– – –

Rick found Michonne and Sasha with a two other members of construction working on a fence to surround the pond. They were just scratching out a blueprint, and the real work would begin tomorrow, but it warmed his heart. He was caught up in multiple shifts, and he couldn't lend a hand right now, but knowing they were on the job...reassured him that nobody would be getting in that pond.

He was on his way back to the wall. He'd stopped to kiss Judith goodnight since he had the late shift, and he'd ensured Carol had gotten some fresh air and a hot meal. She had cooked for them, and he was surprised. She'd been acting strangely the entire morning, barely left her room, but she had some spunk now. He supposed it was the pregnancy. He hardly remember how Lori was in a normal environment, but he suspected it would have been like this.

He called to Michonne, and she met him halfway. "Carl's watchin' Judy with Enid."

She nodded. "I saw them out earlier, but I lost track of where when my shift came."

"Yeah, he'll be home later. He's attached to that puppy."

Michonne smirked knowingly. "The puppy isn't the only thing he's attached to."

Rick tilted his head. "What do you know?"

She laughed. "All I'm saying is you might want to sit him down and talk to him. He's not a little boy anymore, and I just want you and him both to be prepared."

"An old friend...told me to have that talk with Carl when Lori was pregnant." He rubbed his jaw. "I never got around to it. Uh, there were more important talks to have with him."

"I think now's the time. They're smart, but still just teenagers. They'll be stupid. Impulsive. Reckless. Hell, even we have our moments like that." She reached out and clasped his hand. "Just talk to him."

"I will. Tomorrow. I have the wall tonight."

"Okay." She was going to hold him to it. "How's Carol? She didn't see them off."

"Yeah, I know. She kept to herself most of the morning, but she seems...jolly now."

"Jolly?" She arched a teasing brow. "Who is she? Mrs. Clause?"

"Well, she isn't exactly happy, but she has some pep to her step. She seems to be...energetic."

"I'll talk to her. I don't know how much I'll get out of her, but I'll talk to her." She squeezed his hand. "Daryl said if he misses her appointment, he wants you there with her."

"He didn't tell me that."

"Were you going to miss it?"

"Not a chance in hell."

"That's why he didn't tell you. So, if he misses it, you take her to Hilltop. We're too few right now to for more us to go with you. I think you'll be fine. It's not a quick trip, but to get her there and back, you'll be fine."

He smirked. "You think?"

You'll be in a car with a pregnant woman who's pulling into herself, so it'll be awkward, but you'll survive was what she wanted to say, but she didn't. He either already knew, or he didn't see it. Either way, she wasn't up for a conversation where she dissected Carol's mental state. "Yeah, I think." She chuckled at his expression and kissed him. "Go to the wall. I have to finish up here."

"I'll see you at home." He placed a loving kiss to her forehead.

"Talk to your son," she added once more before she rejoined the group.

"Yeah, yeah." He continued onward towards the wall to relieve Gabriel, and on his way he spotted Morgan. He nearly stopped to see what he was doing, but at the sound of a blade scratching against wood, he decided against it. He'd let Morgan do whatever the hell he was doing. Gabriel needed to get home and sleep. He had the afternoon shift. He seemed fond of that particular shift, and Rick suspected it was because Rosita and Spencer weren't on the wall or making patrols those days. He had hoped they cleared up their issues. It was affecting more than just them now, too, and it was starting to feel like more and more like a high school. He did not want to remember those days.

Michonne and Sasha parted always once they'd finish the blueprint, Michonne invited her over for dinner, but she passed. Abraham and Eugene had gone on the hospital run with Daryl, so her place was practically empty. Michonne wasn't sure why Sasha hadn't gone. Rosita had went, Tara and Denise, Francine, and a handful of other people. Even Maggie and Glenn. They had their teams and jobs, and they could have found one for her. Perhaps she wanted to stick around for a bit. Michonne doubted she'd get the answer if she asked her outright. She'd figure it out sooner or later, especially as they were building this fence together.

Michonne closed the door to the house, the scent of dinner still in the air, and she called to Carol to see if she was still awake. She didn't mind eating alone, but if she could have company, she'd take it. Maybe Carol didn't want to be alone right now either. It was cold and murky tonight, so a little companionship had to be welcome.

"Carol?" She checked her room but found it untouched. "Huh. Carol?" She walked through the rooms both upstairs and down, finding the woman asleep in someone else's bed. She smiled at her, coiled up in the middle of Daryl's bed, face nearly buried in a pillow, yarn lying all around her. She chucked under her breath and carefully collected the balls, placing them in the basket. She grabbed a blanket from the chair in the corner of the room and covered Carol with it. She tiptoed out of the room and closed the door, strolling to the kitchen to help herself to dinner.

"What are you smiling about?" Carl stood in the doorway with a sleeping Judith in his arms.

Michonne shook her head innocently. "It's nothing."

"Lair." He crossed over to her. "What is it? Did I miss something?"

"No. It's really nothing." She gestured to her plate. "Did you eat?"

"Yeah, Olivia made us food." He adjusted Judith. "I'm going to put her to bed then you can tell me what happened."

––

Carol woke to her body's internal alarm clock and changed to meet Morgan at the empty houses across town. She was confused at the men's clothing in her closet then recalled yesterdays events and stumbled up to her room to change. She washed her face and headed back downstairs, shuffling across town. The sun had yet to rise, but it would soon. Until then an icy air cloaked Alexandria, and it chilled her to the bone. She couldn't dive into the house soon enough, and she moaned blissfully at the warm that enveloped her.

"You're early."

"I can take a nap on the couch until it's time." She smirked, though it held little humor.

"No, it's fine. I expected as much." He stepped out from behind the counter. "Did you eat?"

"No."

"Well, let's take care of that first." He pulled out a plate of fruit and eggs. "I have a few more things to prepare, so why don't you sit here and eat?"

She inhaled softly. "You made me breakfast?"

"I made myself some too. I just had a lot leftover."

She walked over to him and accepted the plate. "Thank you."

He nodded and watched her sit at the table in the back of the room then went to the living room to ensure everything was in place. He could hear the fork hitting the plate as he bent down to adjust the rug, and he wondered why she hadn't eaten breakfast before she left the house. He'd seen and heard how she didn't sleep well, so maybe that affected her. She was too tired to remember to grab food. He hoped that wasn't a habit, given in her condition. She needed more food than the rest of them anyway, and Daryl wasn't here to remind her. He wasn't going to try and take the man's place—that wasn't possible—but maybe until they returned he could be there for her in a similar way. She had come to him for help, after all, so perhaps there was something he could build. Friendship. A mutual respect. He wasn't entirely sure, but it would be something.

He called to her once he was finished, and she joined him a moment later, leaving the plate in the sink. He straightened up and handed her a staff. It wasn't like his. It was unshaped, thick, the layer of dark bark shaved off, leaving the lighter tone underneath revealed.

"What's this?" She was hesitant.

"Lesson one." He reached over, pausing until she nodded confirmation that it was okay for him to touch her, and he placed her hand on the staff. "We'll take it slow."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but he walked around her. "Take what slow exactly?"

"Just hold onto the staff." He stood behind her, his back to hers, and he held his own staff. "Take a deep breath."

She decided to not argue and do as he said. She did, after all, go to him. She drew in air to capacity and released it.

"Okay."

They repeated that five times, Carol wasn't sure what the goal here was, and Morgan made her repeat the last one three times. She didn't know why, perhaps her inner skeptic was showing itself in her breathes. She wouldn't be so surprised. This was ridiculous. She wasn't here to learn how to sigh. She just held onto to the belief that this had a deeper meaning. She might be wrong, but she had to have a little faith. Right.

"Close your eyes," he now instructed.

She sucked in another breath and closed her eyes, still holding the staff in her palms.

"Clear your mind."

"Okay."

He chuckled. "Clear your mind."

"I did."

"No, you didn't. I can wear the gears still turnin'." He didn't look at her or make any moves to in the next few minutes. "Just...clear your mind of all thoughts."

"I told you I already did."

"You're arguin' with me—your head's not clear."

She squeezed her eyes shut even more and tried to ignore him while silencing her mind. She had never been able to do it since the prison. Well, after the prison, there were always memories there, haunting her. They always crept up on her when she least expected it, and they were there now. She couldn't escape them, and Morgan refused to believe she had hushed them. She would just have to try. She couldn't seem to entirely fool him, and the reason for doing this wasn't to fool him. It was to try. She told Daryl she was trying all those months ago in that dark little room with the bunk beds, and she couldn't do it alone anymore.

Alone was a lie, a cover, a story. But this? She wanted right now to be genuine. She wanted this to be the first step to finding herself again through the heavy walls and unexpected storms. She wanted to work through it all and find some shred of peace. She wanted to be able to look at her child and see the future, not his demise. She wanted so much for her child, for herself, and she had to take the first step now. Delaying it would only make things harder. She had to do this. She only had some odd months before the baby was here, and she only had...what? A week? Two? Until Daryl came back, and she needed to give him an answer. Maybe, one day, not right now, I'm not ready—those weren't answers. They were excuses. Yes, no, I'm sorry I don't feel the same, I do, but let's take it slow—those were. She just had to figure out which one applied to her. That was another reason why she was here.

"Find a spot in your mind where it's quiet," Morgan commanded in a low, nonthreatening tone. "Where you can just sit and enjoy the silence. Nothing will hurt you. It's calm and peaceful. Clear your mind and focus on that place."

She steadied her breathing and tried to claw her way to a place where it was quiet, peaceful, but no such place existed among the chaos and the memories and the emotions. Her brow furrowed as she could hear the events of the grove crossing through her brain, followed by the image of Mika's dead body then Lizzie's.

Karen. She jolted and the staff fell to the floor, her body crumbling beside it, and she was panting. She felt an arm on her back, and she had to open her eyes. She could see him beside her from the corner of her eye, but she didn't say anything. She couldn't.

"It's all right." He patted her back carefully. "I had the same problem. There's a lot of noise. We'll—we'll sort through it together, and it won't be so loud."

She shook her head. "I—I can't do this. This was a mistake."

"It's not."

"How do you know?" She glared through the tears in her eyes. "You aren't in my head, Morgan. You can't understand what this feels like!"

"Maybe not, but you have to go through it. That's the only way we're go—"

"Go through it?" she growled. "I've been going through it since it happened! You don't know—You can't even imagine!"

"Then tell me what happened so I can."

She shook her head again and dug her nails into the rug. "I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"No."

He sat down. "You can. I know you can, just stop tryin' to keep it buried. Trust me."

"I don't even know you, and what I do know of you doesn't make me trust me." She moved away from him. "I haven't forgotten what happened with the wolf, what you did to me..."

"I was tryin' to save someone's life, and that's what I'm tryin' to do now. You came to me for a reason, and you need to work through this."

"This isn't like you and your son."

"It doesn't have to be. It can be about rage and unbearable torment—I've been through that. I'm still goin' through that. Maybe I can't relate. Maybe I don't have a damn clue what you went through, and I never will, but I'm willin' to try—for you. The least you could do is give me that same effort."

She scoffed under her breath and squeezed her eyes shut, Morgan studied the silver-haired woman for a moment then stood up when she said nothing, and he was tempted to leave. He was reluctant to do just that, because he'd been violent and refused to listen. He'd kept it all inside and snapped. He understood. They had different outlets, different ways of showing their inner war, and he couldn't just walk away. He knew what it was like, knew how being left behind felt, but if she wasn't willing to meet him even two steps then he had to. There was nothing he could do if she didn't try just as much as he was.

He hovered in the doorway to the living room, his eyes glancing at the front door, but he didn't step towards it. He kept his back to her as he had during their session, and he heard another breath pass through her lips. He waited, hoping she'd speak, hoping she'd see this could be a way she could take, hoping she had the strength to overcome. He knew she was strong. The woman could carry the weight of mountains, but now it was crushing her. He wanted only to lift her burdens, but he wasn't going to get anywhere unless she opened up.

A minute had passed. Two. Then three, and silence filled the house. It was his turn to sigh, but instead all he did was turn and look back at her. She was still on the floor, sitting with her hands balled into fists on her thighs, her head bowed, and he watched tears slid down towards the rug. He frowned and he lowered himself down beside her.

"It's like poison," he imparted. "You keep it all bottled up, and it will kill you. Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow, but sooner or later it'll drown you. You need to let it out."

She inhaled so sharply it felt like the air had stabbed the back of her throat, and she tightened her grip on her pants. She was a mess, and there was no end to it. The door had been opened—she'd willingly opened it—and there was no closing it.

"I'm here when you're ready. If you're not, that's fine too."

"I killed a little girl," she spoke through clenched teeth, tears bunching up on the tip of her nose, on her chin, dripping down onto her shirt and the floor. She was shaking, like when Aaron had pulled her out of the pond. She couldn't control the quaking that coursed through her. "Lizzie. She was eleven years old."

He gulped, not having expected that. "Why?"

"Because she killed her little sister." She was speaking clearly, not a stammer in her words, despite the emotional, quivering mess she had become. Perhaps the words needed to come out. Perhaps her voice needed her to say it in a way that was to heal, not impart knowledge. "She would have killed Judith and me and Tyreese if she had the chance. We had no choice." Her voice began to break now.

"No choice?"

"If I left with Judith or if Tyreese left with Judith, we would have gotten killed. If we sent Lizzie off on her own..." She shuddered. "She would have been killed or worse. We had no choice. I—I had no choice."

"So you killed her?"

"And Karen and David. I was trying to stop their suffering and end a deathly virus." She lifted her hands to bury her face in them. She could remember everyone she killed, even the ones whose names she didn't know. They were burned in the back of her mind. They haunted her like ghosts, and she had no way of escaping them.

Morgan let Carol cry herself into exhaustion, moving her onto the couch when she'd began to drift off on the rug where she'd coiled herself into a ball, and he studied her from across the room. Her eyes were swollen and red, tears staining her pale cheeks, and her lips were scarlet from pressing together when he had his back turned, trying desperately to keep it all inside. She was one hell of a woman, he decided, and this would be one hell of a task. Restoring an inner balance to turmoil like this would take time, and he'd devote all of his time to helping her through this if he could give her a moment of peace. He hoped for more, but he'd take what he could get.

He covered her with a blanket from the back of the couch and departed from the room to let her rest. She would need it.

––

Michonne glanced at Sasha as she set the last post in the ground. They had enough wood to make it wrap around the entire pond, and she sighed. She knew this was just as important as the run, but she had wished she could have gone as their plan had in large part involved her. Until the last second that was.

Rosita joined up last minute, and she was fine with. Rosita was a quick study, and she needed an outlet. She had a temper, and taking out walkers should help with the bottled up anger she had. She knew Rosita would keep her head and fit into their team well. She wasn't in the head space of a team player right now. She was dedicated to the mission, to providing a future, only she didn't mind carving that path out with blood. Michonne wasn't too worried. Rosita had heart. She would listen to it over any emotion and keep her team safe, keep the group safe. She couldn't stand to lose anybody either.

As for the emotions...well, Michonne didn't leave a blank space when she removed herself from the run. She knew that would really chap Rosita's hide—rather he would—but it was too late for regrets. Michonne had her place here, and they had theirs there. She only wished she could be a fly on the wall, to warn them of any danger and fight the good fight to ensure they all survived. It wasn't as easy as that. They would likely lose someone. With a high risk mission like this causalities were expected, but how many was still a question. She felt if she were there, she would lower that number to its smallest possibility. It might wishful thinking, but runs hadn't gone well in a while.

"After this, I bet construction has us chop down some trees to fill in their holes." Sasha squinted over at Michonne, the water catching the bright rays of the Autumn sun, and she studied the other woman. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just..."

"Thinking about the run," Sasha finished with a nod. "They'll be fine. They have a good team, and they've thought it through. Sure, it'll probably go to hell, but they know what they're dealing with. They'll get it done."

"I know, and we'll get this done." She smirked at her. "Or we can do it like the old world and wait about ten years then make progress."

She laughed, a puff of white smoke following the noise despite it being relatively warm today. "Ten years? Hell, we might as well leave it to Judy and Carol's kid at that point."

"They'll have the energy for it. They'll just lack the skill."

"Are you sure? I've seen Judy with those Legos. She's pretty good."

"No."

"Fine, fine." She held her hands up in a gesture of peace. "Don't tell Carol I volunteered her kid for manual labor."

"I won't, though if he or she gets anything from Tobin, I hope it's that."

"Tsk, yeah." She crossed her arms. "He was a good guy, don't get me wrong, but he was spoiled by this world. We can't afford to let this town do the same to us, or to Judy and that baby. Knowing when to relax and being soft are too very different things. We need to make sure they know that."

"That's a bit heavy for children, don't you think?"

"It's either a bit heavy or a lotta dead." She shrugged a shoulder. "You saw what happened at the prison. We...we lost almost everyone, and those kids? Mika, Lizzie, Molly, Reed... We lost Patrick to the flu. The flu, and I don't want that to happen again, not to Judith or Carol's kid or any kids Glenn and Maggie will have. The world breaks us all down, and being sheltered...isn't going to save anybody. We know how sheltered people and kids react to this world."

"Sasha—"

"I lost my brother. I don't know what happened to him out there on the road, but my big brother couldn't... He just couldn't, and I won't let that happen again. Carol's stronger. She sees more clearly, but how long until she doesn't?" She swallowed. "I've been down that road myself, and...the way back is so much harder. I'm still taking steps, and I want those kids to have a childhood, but it won't be like mine or yours or Carl's. It'll just be their childhood, and I truly hope they live beyond that."

"They will. We'll all be here to see it. Carol will protect her child. Daryl will protect that child. You, me, Rick, Glenn—all of us. We don't—We can't teach a kid how to kill. Eventually yes, they'll have to learn, but until then we'll do that. We'll be their blades and their guns. It's what we already know and do. I understand your worry—it's mine too—but we can't train them to be killers the moment they can hold a knife."

"I wasn't suggesting that. I just can't..." She dropped her head. "I was on guard when Judy fell into the water. I...saw her after, cuddled up between Daryl and Carol, and it dawned on me how easily that day could have ended in a funeral. I can't get that out of my head."

"I know, but she's all right. We're building this to keep her and any other little ones safe. The rest...the lessons and knives will come later, but until later is here they deserve a childhood, even if it's nothing like ours. It'll be theirs."

Sasha heaved a sigh, the hot breath once more visible, and she nodded, turning her gaze to the pile of wood planks. "You know, in a way...they're luckier. They won't know what the old world was like. They won't miss it. They won't wonder what...the hell life would be like if this hadn't happened."

Michonne walked over to her and set a hand on her shoulder. "It did happen, and we're together. All of us. Your struggles, no matter how personal they are, are ours too. You can talk to me, Sasha. You know that."

She inhaled and nodded. "But let's just finish this gate for now."

"Okay."

"Also," Sasha walked over towards the workbench, "I meant what I said: Judy's really good with those Legos."

Michonne chuckled. "We'll have to teach her when she's older."

"We? You mean you and Abraham. I'm a sniper. That's what I do."

"We can squeeze in some lessons when she's a teenager."

She nodded. "All right, but I'm holding you to that. If you and Rick don't make it that long, I'm still doing it."

She smirked. "I'll be there beside you during the lesson." She nudged her. "You can count on that."

"Good." She snuffled and reached out to help Michonne with a plank.

– – –

Sucking in air, Carol woke to a dimly lit living room, and she found herself covered and comfortable on the couch, though her face felt sticky. She rubbed a hand under her eye, and she exhaled. She had bawled. Her eyes were dry from the amount of tears she'd wept. She could recall what happened before the flood of tears, and she sighed. She didn't want to go there, not today, not with him. She had, and it was over, but damn it.

"I made some tea."

She looked up to find Morgan in the doorway, a mug of tea in his hands, and she pushed herself up, setting her feet on the floor. "I'm fine."

"I added some honey. It's good. Have a cup." He lifted his cup to gesture to the one he'd left on the table beside her. "It'll help your throat."

She didn't it in her to argue so she picked up the cup and drank from it. It wasn't scorching, but it was hot enough to steam. The scent of mint flooded her nose, the rich taste of honey glided down her throat with a bit of something unpleasant, and she nearly spit it out. She knew he wouldn't put anything in it that could hurt the baby, and if he tried, he would definitely be killed or banished, but she couldn't place the taste. And she couldn't swallow it.

"I dropped a different bag into your tea by accident," he explained when she hadn't swallowed and began to look a bit green. "It's what I'm drinking."

She choked it down and set the cup back on the table. "Okay."

He sat in the chair close by her. "It's evenin' now. I made you somethin' to eat."

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to." He met her eyes. "I don't know if you'll like it, but it's all I could find in the kitchen."

"It smells all right." She could smell tomato, but it was more like a sauce than raw or fried. She suspected it was spaghetti, and that sounded good. If only they had cheese. That'd make it perfect.

"You already know what it is, don't you?"

"Yeah." She cleared her throat and crossed her legs underneath her. "About what I told you—"

"It won't go outside these walls," he interrupted her in a gentle tone.

She nodded and set her hands in her lap. "Thanks."

He set his mug down. "I just have one question."

"You want to know why I'm here." She rolled her lips inward and released them with a sigh when he bobbed his head yes in confirmation. "Well, Daryl...told me he loves me. Is in love with me, not...as friends or family."

He smiled, and she knew he'd figured that out the moment she'd approached him. "That's great news."

"Is it?" She wasn't sure.

"Yeah, it's the best kind of news." He studied her. "What did you tell him?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. It's a haze, and all I could think about was losing him if I don't answer. Hell, I still could even if I do, and I don't want to. I couldn't lose him..." She whispered the last line to herself.

"You couldn't lose him?"

"But I don't know that that means I'm in love with him," she sharply added, annoyed he'd heard her.

"Well, I can tell you what I know of love."

"And that's what, Cupid?" She glared, not wanting to be lectured, not by him of all people.

"Love is the best thing in this world. It heals all wounds, especially the ones we don't know we have. It's a gift to have, even more so in this world. It's unconditional. It's...what keeps our heads above water. It's what gets us out of bed in the morning. It's what makes you walk and get fresh air and eat, no matter how the storm inside you diminishes your appetite and wants to keep you in bed." He searched her eyes. "Your unconditional love for your child has already...softened you—in a good way. It's...lettin' you do what you need."

"It's not my love for my child that's in question here, Morgan. I already know how I feel about my baby." She stood up, hand over her stomach. "It's about Daryl. That's who we're talking about. My best friend."

"All right." He caught up to her in the kitchen. "There's some garlic bread in the oven. It's...interestin'."

"How'd you make bread?" She stared at him. "I couldn't even find the ingredients."

"I'm crafty." He turned the topic back to Daryl. "So, he's your best friend."

"Yes, he...hasn't always been, but it feels like he has." She pulled down a bowl. "He's stood by me when nobody else has. He's had my back. He's...the only person in this entire town that I can't seem to...run from."

"But you did."

"And look how far I got." She met his eyes. "And that's not what I meant. He's the only person I trust with everything."

He stopped her there. "Let me lay it out for you in your own words and from what I know."

"Okay." She helped herself to the food while he spoke.

"You love him. It's obvious. You've said it. Everyone's seen it." He set his hand on the counter. "He's your best friend, and nothing is hidden long from him. You're planning on raising this baby with him, and I suspect you always had, even before Tobin passed, and you can't lose him."

She licked sauce off her finger to avoid speaking.

"So, the way I see it is you have three choices."

"Three?" Her brows knitted together.

"You want things to stay the same. You want to continue being friends and raise this child together as only friends. It'll be hard, because he'll have to try to move on from what he feels from you. He might not be able to, and it'll strain your relationship to the point of ending it, which is your second choice.

"You can drop him altogether. You don't have to answer. You don't have to think about it. Rick and Michonne will be there to help you with the baby. Glenn too. I think he's the godfather, so you'd have help, and your child would grow up without Daryl directly involved in its life. He'll just be a shadow over their shoulder to keep them out of harm's way the best he can without running into you."

She frowned. "No, no. I don't want that at all."

"Then there's the third choice. You take this time while he's out to decide what he really means to you, if you can live without him—which you've stated several times you couldn't—and if you're willing and ready to take this next step—"

"It's not about being ready or willing. I might not love him the way he loves me. He deserves someone who loves him fiercely, unconditionally. He deserves that, not—not someone just settled. He's a good man, and he deserves to be happy. He's earned it a million times over, and if someone comes into his life and is right for him, is truly in love with him, is...is..." She huffed, worked up and unable to finish it, but it wasn't because she was worked up.

"What if this someone comes along? Say, he meets them while out on the run today. Or tomorrow. They save his life, and they get close," he pressed. "Let's say, he brings this person back home, and he begins to love this person more than he loves you. You grow apart as they grow closer. They get together, are blissfully happy and maybe marry like Glenn and Maggie. Maybe they have a child of their own. Maybe...Daryl let's Glenn step up as godfather to raise his own—"

"Stop!" She had her eyes shut tightly, imagining a woman with darkened out features taking up his time and taking him from her in every way she could, and her stomach was a macrame of knots. She thought she might get sick at the thought of Daryl marrying someone, and she couldn't bear the thought of him not being there for her—for their—child. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

"You can be that person," Morgan continued. "It doesn't have to be someone else."

She didn't dare open her eyes.

"Or you can let him go, and he'll take that first step towards someone he might not love as much as he loves you, or someone he may love more. It's up to you."

She heard him leave, and her eyes fluttered open, her heart being crushed at the idea of Daryl being with someone else, loving someone else. She gagged on the thought of him opening up parts of himself and his past that he never shared with her. It was selfish, but she wanted to be the closest person to him. She loved him so much. She wanted to protect him, and there were parts of himself that people could know but never relate to. That bond was theirs.

She gripped the counter. Couldn't she let him go if the right woman came along? If this woman was true? If she loved him wholeheartedly and didn't want to change a single thing about him, save for the negative thoughts lurking in his mind that years of abuse sewn in there? If she looked at him like he was the stars and the night sky? Could she truly be happy and watch someone else stand by him through every hardship, through the good times and the bad as she had? Was there anybody in the entire world that she felt could treat him right and deserved him?

Her heart was racing, and she knew she was asking all the wrong questions. Stupid questions. She knew the answer to every inquiry her brain had and was proceeding to ask. There was no one in this entire world she would ever view as good enough for Daryl, not even herself. Perhaps particularly not herself. She was damaged, and while it might not be beyond repair, it was enough that she didn't feel worthy of being with anybody.

She drew in a breath. Tobin was an escape plan, plain and simple. He could have been a good boyfriend, but she didn't notice. She was drowning, and he was no lifeline. He was just...a temporary escape, but all too soon she was back in those dark waters, and there was nothing for miles.

That was until she discovered she was pregnant then there was Daryl. Sure, he was livid and ditched out, but then he was there. His arms, his love, his support, even his tears. He was there, and the dark waves weren't. They were...at bay when he was around, and it was the three of them at an appointment; the third was never Harlan, it was the baby. Their baby, their family, and there was nothing else for miles.

Perhaps the meaning in her words I can't lose you too and I know you really meant I'm always with you and I love you more than you can know. A smile crossed her lips. More than I could know.