Disclaimer: I own nothing.

– – –

She inhaled deeply, eyes closed, feet planted on the soft rug, hands outstretched in front of her. She concentrated on her breathing, the empty ringing of the house echoing in her mind, keeping it from being truly blank. Honestly, even if it were empty, it'd only be part of it. She could sense the grove spilling out of its cage, and she knew it'd cloak her entire brain, ensuring nothing else could come through.

"Easy."

At the feel of hands on her stomach, she thrust her hands down and threw his hands off, stumbling back. She stared at him with furrowed borrows, panting through her nose, shuddering. Her lips parted, and she set a hand over her stomach. Almost protectively over her baby.

"I'm sorry."

"No, no that was my fault." He held his hands out in a gesture of peace. "I should have asked before I touched you. I'm sorry."

She hung her head. "I don't think this is helping."

"It is. You were still for half an hour this time." He smiled with pride at her. "It's not consuming you."

Her fingers tightened on her stomach at his wording.

"Not as much as it was, anyway." He put his hands on his hips. "I think that's enough for today. It's been a good week, and I hope to see you back tomorrow."

"I can't. Rick asked me to watch Judith." She collected her sewing bag, adjusting her shirt. "But I'll be back the day after."

He smiled. "I'll have a surprise for you."

She narrowed her eyes. "What kind of surprise?"

"A good one." He collected his staff. "Why don't you get home? I'll see you day after tomorrow."

She sensed he had more to say, so she crossed her arms over her chest and studied him. "What is it?"

"I just..." He sighed and met her eyes. "I'm sorry about that night too."

She didn't have to ask which night. "Oh?"

"I shouldn't have...done that. I lost control, and I'm sorry." He lowered his eyes. "That's why I want to make it up to you with this. You should have a...clean slate with this baby."

She nearly smiled. "A clean slate, huh?" She stepped forward. "I don't think this will clear it all up, but you're right—it is helping me."

He nodded.

"And don't worry about that night. I—I tried to kill you. I wanted to. We both overstepped the line." She averted her eyes. "Just forget about it. It's better for your sake anyway. If even a breath of this reached Daryl..."

"You wouldn't have to kill me," he finished.

No, I wouldn't. Daryl would have his head before the day was over. She gripped the strap to her bag. "I have to go."

"Could I ask you just one thing more?"

"Why not?" She turned to face him, hand on the doorknob.

"Have you thought about what I said last week?"

She inhaled. "That's private."

"So, you have."

She pulled the door open and walked out without answering, because it was personal. She didn't want to talk about it with him, or with anybody. It was confusing enough. She had come to terms with her feelings, but there were so many questions. She felt them bubbling up in her chest every morning and hissing in her ear every night when she curled up in a bed that wasn't hers. She knew nobody minded, and she knew Daryl wouldn't mind. It was a comfortable bed, closer than hers, and it was a change of scenery, only it was the bedroom of the man she was in love with.

Loving him and being in love with him were hard to separate. She had never been in love before. Maybe puppy love when she was a teenager, but nothing like this. Nothing real, nothing as deep and as potent. It felt like nothing she'd ever experienced before. It wasn't enough to calm the dark waves in her mind, but sometimes when she thought about him or what it was like to be around him, they didn't drown her. She didn't know what to make it of. She felt foolish. At her age... God, it was ludicrous. She felt absolutely foolish and bubbly, and she missed him. She missed him like she missed the silence of sanity and like the light feathers of laughter she used to know.

She couldn't wait for that gate to open and for him to be standing there. She wouldn't know when he'd be back, or if he'd be okay. He might be wounded. He might be dying. She hope it was neither, but with this type of run it was wishful thinking. He would get hurt. A lot of them likely would, and it wasn't due to inexperience or impulse. It was due to the relentless force of walkers. They came and came in waves, never getting winded, never giving up. She knew it was a possibility that Daryl might get bitten. Like Jim had, like T-dog had, like Tyreese had. There was always a chance for a scratch or a bite. It made her innards churn, but she had to face facts. There was no running from death.

She inhaled deeply and rubbed her arms, trying to scrub the feeling wrapping around her off. She had to drop the pillow off for the puppy at Enid's, watch Judith for a bit while Rick helped Michonne and Sasha finish the fence since their help was overwhelmed in construction—the plans Abe had left for them were kind of worthless without him there to translate them—and she had to finish the blanket. It was nearly there, and if she slept with it anymore, she'd have to claim it as her own. She drifted off every now and then, curled up with it. If the baby ever calmed at her scent, just wrap it up in that blanket.

"Enid?" Carol entered Olivia's house after knocking. "Anybody home?"

"One second!" Enid called back.

Carol dug the multicolored pillow out of her bag as the young girl and Carl came downstairs with the puppy, Carl kept trying to take her, but Enid wouldn't let him. She hugged her closer and hurried over to Carol with a grin on her face. Carol arched a brow at them being here together and alone, but she said nothing. She wasn't their mother. Maggie and Michonne could figure that out. "Having fun?"

"No." Carl met her eyes. "She won't let me take the puppy. She has the wall tonight. She'll freeze!"

"No, she won't. I'll wrap her up in my hoodie, and I have a blanket." She rolled her eyes. "We'll be good."

"Sure, when the newborn puppy stops moving, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Shut up." She elbowed his chest and turned to Carol. "Sorry, we're being rude. What's up?"

"I brought you this." She held the pillow out to her. "I meant to bring it by yesterday, but...I forgot."

"Awesome." She accepted it and held it in her other arm. "Thank you so much. It's perfect."

"You're welcome."

"Here." Enid handed the pillow and puppy to Carl and hugged Carol as a second thank you. "Thank you."

Carl smiled at them, hugging the puppy closer. "We'll make you something in return."

"You don't have to." She released the young girl. "I have to get going, but why don't you two feed her? She's looking hungry."

"All right." Enid placed her hands on her hip. "Bye. Thank you." She turned to him when Carol was gone. "What can we make her?"

"You said Maggie wanted to make her a pie, so let's make her that pie. It's been how long now?" She shrugged. "Exactly, and it keeps me from having to go home just yet. I still have a lot to do."

"Like what?" She folded her arms over her chest and drew closer to him. "Hmm?"

"Convince you to let me name this puppy, for one." He smirked and headed towards the kitchen. "And for two, bake a pie. I'm not a good cook, probably got that from my mom, but I've learned some things from Carol." A fond yet bitter smile crossed his lips. "And an old friend I used to have. She could cook some too."

Enid averted her eyes and tucked hair behind her ear, forcing a smile while studying the floor. A sinking feeling rested in her gut as she thought on that. An old friend. All of her friends were either dead, or weren't friends. She rarely let anybody get close. "You miss her?"

"I miss a lot of people."

Her smile became sorrow-filled. "Me too."

He reached out and tucked hair behind her other ear, she lifted her head, and he smiled somewhat at her. She tried to muster up the energy to return the smile, but he shook his head. He knew how much it hurt to think back on, and he didn't want to see another forced smile. He'd given so many in his short years, and he didn't want her to do it, not right now, not with him. They could be sincere with each other. He wanted her to know that, and when no smile came but a light in her eyes did, he knew she knew.

"So, where did Maggie put those ingredients?" He stepped into the kitchen.

"There's still in the baskets. After the mud, they kind of forgot." She picked it up from the corner of the counter. "I don't know if we can make a pie with this."

"But we can try. I mean, if worst comes to worst, I know someone who can help us." He set the puppy down in the little bed Maggie and Enid had made for her. "But let's just try it ourselves."

"You just said you couldn't cook. You're liable to burn to the house down." She thrust her hand outward towards the stove where he was preheating it. "Maggie will kill us if we burn the house down."

He turned to peer over his shoulder at her. "But...?"

She smiled at the adorable playfulness in his eye. "But okay. Just scoot over. I know how to use a fire extinguisher." She walked over to him and moved her hair back, looking over the ingredients they had. It might be fun to bake Carol a pie. As long as it was eatable and wouldn't hurt the baby, of course. She might have to taste test it. If she hurt the baby or even upset its little forming stomach, forget Maggie killing them. Daryl and Maggie would kill them, somehow bring them back and kill them again. She didn't want to know their wrath, so she'd make sure it was safe and good. If not, maybe...birds would like it.

– – –

Save for the sound of breathing, it was empty, quiet and tranquil. She could feel and hear the air rising in her lungs and escaping through her lips as her lungs deflated upon exhaling, her feet planted on soft carpet, toes motionless on its shaggy surface. Her eyes were closed, though the golden light of the lamps was still visible, but it was soft glow. It wasn't the burning light she'd struggled through the first week. It was simply there, softly, beautifully. A warm reminder that if she needed to open her eyes, there would be light there.

On the first day, that light was cruel. She would open her eyes and see the sun beaming down on Mika's pale, bloody splattered face, her eyes forever closed, her lips forever shut. The blood from the wounds still fresh on her faded shirt, her hands lying beside her body, likely dropping there when the energy to fight had passed, when she began to lose her grip on reality, on life. Death closing in, its infection spreading through her tiny body to turn into one of those monsters out there. To turn her into what Sophia had become. Carol had ensured she wouldn't draw in another breath again—though that breath would truly only be a ravenous growl.

The light had been cruel the second and third day as well. She remembered the light on the flowers, the new face of the little flaxen haired child before her, crying and apologizing for the wrong crime. Little legs stomping away, arms crossed as her small shoulders trembled, head bowed in shame for having pulled her gun on her adoptive mother. Not one tear she for the cold-blooded murder of her baby sister. Hands balled into fists. Just look at the flowers. Count with me. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two... She could still hear the bullet leaving the gun, how Lizzie's body fell to the ground, as lifeless as her sister's. Two young lives gone—one to prove a point, one for protection, mercy, her own good. Had the world not been what it was, Lizzie might have been fine.

However the world was what it was, and Lizzie was dead. Mika was dead. Sophia and Beth and Molly and Patrick and all of the children she used to read to and teach were gone. Sam. Ron. The list was far too long, and her chest ached. She couldn't bring them back. They had to be in a better place. A place with no pain, no loss, no sorrow. She wasn't sure if such a place existed, but she hoped for those who died believing there was, and for the ones who didn't, well, she just hoped they found the peace nobody would find here on Earth.

She exhaled and pushed on from that thought. The fourth and fifth days were cluttered with morning sickness and the inability to adjust to anything. They were written off as days off, and so they redid them. It was about a week and a half into Daryl's run, and they hadn't heard back from them. They hadn't heard any cars pull up to the gates, not even a whisper of a truck humming in the distance. It had been quiet, except for a batch of walkers that showed up last night, pounding on the gates, but Enid and Sasha took care of them. All was still within the walls of their home.

Today's session had taken four hours. She didn't know that much time had passed until she looked outside and saw the afternoon sun pounding down onto the cold pavement. She curled up on the couch with a blanket and sat in silence for another hour, and Morgan departed without saying much. They had gotten to the point of not needing to excuse themselves. She didn't need to know why he was leaving, and she didn't just storm out. It was all for a reason.

She tugged the blanket tighter around her on the way back home, finding the couch too inviting to pass up. She pulled her legs up and wrapped herself up to be snug and warm. The house was cozy enough, but winter was coming, and it wasn't being kind. She could hardly stand to be outside for long unless the sun was out. Cold air didn't agree with any of them, not even the kids, though they had classes to attend and a puppy to awe over.

She heard movement, shuddering and laughter, and her eyes found Rick and Michonne stumbling through the hall, shivering. She knew Michonne and Sasha had just finished in the gate on the fence. Maybe Rick lent them a hand, and they were finished with it entirely now. It would explain why Michonne was back so soon. She normally stayed out until the sun had set, until there was no light left to aid her in building the fence. Carol admired her for her efforts. It would make watching Judy and her child easier in the warm seasons.

"I think it's time for the winter coats." Michonne faced Rick, reaching up to place cold palms on icy cheeks, and he nodded, a noticeable quiver passing through him. "What? You can handle a horde, but not the cold?"

"I prefer the dry and warm." He chuckled and lowered her hands, massaging her skin through her gloves to warm them. "And you're pretty cold yourself."

"I never said I was a fan of it." He kissed her wrist since her palms were covered, and she laughed, though a fondness blossomed in her eyes. "We have patrol tonight, so let's make sure Judy at least sees us."

"We have been busy, haven't we?"

"We have to be busy. It's what keeps us safe." She searched his eyes. "But we do need to make time for her. Hmm. Why don't we tomorrow? You'll have that appointment with Harlan soon, so we'll need to prepare for that. With you gone, we'll have to find someone to cover the wall. I have to watch Judith, because Carl's covering in construction, and Enid's already covered two shifts on the wall." She heaved a sigh. "And the construction crew is already worn thin, so they just can't. They won't be at their best, be alert."

"Basically they won't be who we need guarding us."

She nodded. "I think I know who can cover, but I'll have to ask her. It might be a no." She might have to take up the wall herself, but at long as Judy had a sitter, she didn't mind.

"Let me know how it pans out."

"Trust me, you'll be the first to know." She laced her fingers through his and turned, spotting Carol on the couch. "Hey, I didn't know you were home."

"I only just got in a little bit ago."

"How are you feeling? Not sick, or anythin'?" Rick inquired. "It's been gettin' colder, and you've been goin' out for hours. I just wanna be sure. I don't want to prod you."

"I'm okay. I'm just...enjoying the quiet." She smiled softly. "Thanks for asking."

He looked perplexed, but he smiled. "That's good."

She turned her gaze out the window and tightened her grip on her legs. "Could I borrow Michonne for a minute?" She peeked at the pair briefly. "It's just...baby talk."

"Oh." He nodded. "Yeah, I can make dinner with Carl."

"We'll join you when it's done." She released his hand and strolled over to her, sitting on the couch with one leg underneath her. She waited until he was gone to meet Carol's eyes and ask what was going on.

"I know you know about Daryl." She kept her voice low, knowing Rick or the others could walk by and overhear. "About how he feels about..."

"You." She nodded, finishing where Carol hadn't. "I noticed the last trip to Hilltop."

"I had only just found out the morning you knocked on my door and spoke to him."

"Wait...you knew only then?"

She nodded. "There were pauses where he wanted to tell me, but I guess the time wasn't right. I can't really say for sure. I just know that...he didn't tell me, and I overheard, but we did talk about it. I told him I'd think about it, try and figure out how I feel about him and his love for me." She was whispering, and she wasn't entirely sure. Perhaps she didn't want to hear these words. Perhaps she was scared of where they might lead her. Love in this world wasn't a kind thing, and not only to her.

"Have you figured that out yet?" It'd been a week and a half since they left on the hospital run, and it wasn't a massive amount of time, but it could have been enough for her to figure out where she was at. Michonne hoped her thoughts didn't end due to fear or lack of searching. She'd seen these two since the prison, and they had always been something special between them that nobody could touch. Tobin couldn't have even hoped to touch it when they were together, and Michonne could only hope it didn't go to waste. What they have, their bond and closeness, was something others could only dream of having. In its raw form, it was what Maggie and Glenn had, what she was discovering between her and Rick, so there was more than just potential there. When you walk into a room and immediately move to that one person, to hold them, to ensure they're all right both mentally and physically and then do all you can to make them better—that's love, she thought to herself. The love Daryl felt for Carol, the love Glenn felt for Maggie, the love she felt for Rick. She knew it could be the love Carol felt for Daryl.

"I have figured it out, though." She dropped her hands to her stomach.

"And?"

"And I do."

She smiled widely. "That's incredible, Carol." She set her hand on her knee and squeezed it. "I'm so happy for you."

Carol couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips, the blush of embarrassment that burned over her cheeks, and she chuckled. "Is it, though?"

"It is. It really is." She searched her eyes. "But how did you come to this conclusion? I'm thrilled you did, but...why are you telling me?"

"Because we don't really talk anymore. I don't really talk anymore." She sighed sadly. "I don't want to be locked up in my room or inside myself. I miss...everything, and I had to tell the person who helped me realize this."

"I helped you? How?"

"You and Rick." She nodded her head towards the hall he'd walked off towards. "You started out antagonistic and slowly became friends then best friends and now you're together. You're happy, and you suit each other well. You make each other stronger. Better. You keep each other grounded. There's an understanding and respect between you two, and it doesn't have to be spoken."

Michonne propped her free foot on the couch as she listened to Carol, and she chuckled. "We really need to find you a hobby."

Carol laughed. "Let me finish."

"Sorry." She held a hand up and fell silent.

"And all of that—save for the together part—is what Daryl and I already have. It hit me when I was watching you and Rick with Judith the other night. It reminded me of the prison. It was during the peace after the Governor had lost the battle there, Beth had just dropped Judith off with me to take a quick nap, and he found us in my room." A fond smile coupled with an adoring glow settled on Carol's face, and widened the smile on Michonne's. "He stood in the doorway, peeking in on us, and I nodded at him. He didn't want to come in without permission."

"Yeah."

"Anyway, we just sat there on blankets, playing with her. He always had a way with Judith, and I thought my thoughts were normal. I didn't...linger on them until a couple days ago."

"Your thoughts?"

"I would have been perfectly content to just...watch the two of them together for the rest of my life." She was so happy that day, and even Daryl cracked a smile. They had laughed and teased little Judy by hiding her toys, which they quickly had to return least a crying fit broke out, and Beth stormed in to see what was wrong. That child could have been in the deepest sleep imaginable and still woke at Judith's cries. She swallowed and pushed on. "Looking back on that day...I think he might have loved me back then. Do you think?"

She didn't say anything—but her grin said about a million things—and she patted Carol's knee and rose to help Rick with dinner, leaving Carol to her thoughts. She supposed at any age love was a confusing and powerful thing. It warmed the heart and soul better than anything. She knew she was right when her eyes fell on Rick and Carl in the kitchen. Rick was trying something Carl had presented him, and Rick gagged and spat it out.

"Well, I'm glad we didn't go with this one." He tossed it out. "Sorry, Dad."

Rick was too busy downing water to answer.

"What's going on?" Michonne spotted Enid. "Kids?"

"We're making something for Carol," Enid replied. "We just don't know how. We're trying, and we have some cookbooks, but it's the end of the world. Nobody exactly wrote a cookbook for the end of days."

"At least not one that we can find," Carl added.

Michonne shook her head. "Why don't you ask Olivia? She's a pretty good cook. She'd be glad to help."

"We want to do it on our own." Enid slipped the notebook in her back pocket. "But we could ask her for advice."

Rick, who had spend this entire conversation downing water, gasped in and said, "You really should have her make the whole...whatever that was."

"That was all Enid." Carl crossed his arms. "I have yet to try my hand at baking, but it's gotta be better than that."

"Sure." She rolled her eyes. "I'm going home. I'll talk to Olivia tonight, and we can try again tomorrow."

"Okay." He turned towards her. "I'm still naming that dog."

"Not on your life." She smiled sweetly and exited the house after saying goodbye to Rick and Michonne.

Rick glanced at Michonne, who sat down at the island to peel carrots, and she arched a brow at him. He didn't say anything, just grabbed a carrot to lend her a hand, and Carl excused himself to take a shower. He did reek of smoke, which nearly made the two check and see if Maggie and Glenn still had a home, but they suspected it was all that was left of their first attempt to bake this...gift.

"If he cooks anythin' like his mother," Rick told Michonne in a low tone, "Daryl's gonna kick my ass."

Michonne snorted a laugh and sighed. "Yes, he will."

"Thanks for the support!" Carl called from the hall.

Rick shook his head while Michonne laughed. "You know he's partially yours now."

She closed her mouth, but kept giggling. "Oh, I know." That was why she was laughing, because of her son.

– – –

Carol stood outside in a heavy coat and beanie, fog surrounding her with the yellow beam of the headlights cutting through them, but not well. She listened to the engine as it rumbled, the car filling with heat, and she waited. She was just inside the walls beside the car Rick had pulled around front to take her to Hilltop in, and she tucked her hands in her pocket, fighting off the cold, her eyes glued to the lack of view outside the gate.

Two weeks. It'd been two weeks since she last saw him or the group they'd taken with them. Her heart ached with worry, and her stomach clenched in fear. She knew there were a million reasons why they were held up, but she knew more than half meant they were in danger. Every second they were outside these walls, they were in some sort of danger. Walkers, people, nature—they were all hazardous to ones health. At least with walkers, you knew their intent. People and nature were unpredictable.

She heaved a sigh, a white puff chasing it, and she shuddered, looking upward as light rippled across the dark sky, and she closed her eyes, feeling the lack of sleep she'd gotten. Typically after her sessions and after helping with Judith or the crops, she could sleep some. Maybe four hours, maybe six, if she was lucky, but lately an energy buzzed underneath her skin. She could feel it even now, and she didn't know what it was. It just...zapped about and woke her up at the ass crack of the morning. The sun wasn't even up, but she did have an appointment, so of course she woke Rick up to be miserable with her. He agreed to whatever time she chose, and she knew now he regretted that decision. She would apologize when she saw him, if he ever came out of the house.

Boots scrapping across gravel caught her attention, her eyes opened and looked towards the direction of their home, but there was nothing. It wasn't Rick. Her heart jumped up to her throat, and she whirled around towards the gate, seeing a shadow nearing from the other side through the fog. She neared the gate at a slow, silence pace, hand on her knife just in case, and she listened for any growls to see if it was a walker or not, but there was no noise.

"Daryl?" She hurried over to the gate, hand curling around the cold metal, and she squinted to make out any features.

"Carol."

She looked over her shoulder to find Rick stumbling over, exhaustion plain on his face, and she exhaled, shifting her body towards him now. She released the gate, but something grabbed her back. She instantly reached for her knife, but the grasp was stronger, and she was going to slam into the gate. She instead used her hand to stop her body from roughly slamming against the freezing metal.

"Carol!" Rick bolted towards her.

She struggled to pull her hand free, and she jerked forward, her shoulder bashing against the gate at the force. She winced in pain, and she saw the face of who had a hold on her. It wasn't a person. It was a walker. She could tell by how it looked that it was new as the skin had yet to decay, and the scent of rot wasn't overpowering. She couldn't reach her knife with trying to keep from hitting the gate, and she couldn't kick her leg through at this angle. She was just stuck.

The moment Rick reached her, the walker's head exploded, she stumbled back against Rick, and they fell to the ground. They grunted as they hit the cold pavement, though Rick had made it so Carol landed on him and not the ground, and she was positive she'd elbowed him in the throat. She apologized as she sat up, and he nodded, still on the ground.

Carol looked over at who shot the walker, finding the man on guard had, and she had to repress an eye roll. He had killed the walker, that was the important part, but for pity's sake. He missed it entirely until it was right against the gate. Was he not paying attention? Or did he not know how to use the rifle? She wasn't sure which question scared her more, to be honest.

"You okay?" Rick rubbed his neck, climbing to his feet.

"I'm all right. Are you?" She accepted his hand and rose, reaching out to move his hand and inspect the area he was rubbing.

"It's fine." Cold fingers on the recently assaulted area was soothing, but scold-worthy. "Why the hell are your hands ice cold?"

"I'm a naturally cold person." She lowered her hands.

He scoffed. "Here." He handed her gloves Michonne had given him. "Wear these."

She accepted them. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I'm just tryin' to ensure I don't get an angry redneck in my face." He cut a look at Luis, who was on guard. "You don't know the threats your cold finger will bring me."

She smiled widely when he turned his back. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." He opened the car door for her. "Besides I'm also runnin' for godmother, so I gotta up my game."

"What?" She tugged the gloves on and neared him. "What are you talking about?"

"Tobin picked Glenn, and everyone else is waitin' for you to pick a godmom. I think I have a pretty good shot," he teased to make her laugh, and he smiled when it worked. "C'mon, let's get goin'. It's a long drive."

She sat down in the car and watched him walk around the car, setting her hands in her lap. She ran her eyes over her wrist for any marks, and there weren't any. She set a hand on her stomach and remembered how much it hurt her shoulder to the gate. If her whole body had hit that gate with the force that walker was using... Or if that walker had decided to chomp down on her right then.

She shook her head. It hadn't, and it didn't, and she was on her way to finding out how her baby was. And if anything was going to cloud her mind, it should be how she was going to handle seeing Daryl again. A missed appointment and a realized love certainly drowned out that what ifs of what just occurred.

When Rick was satisfied with Luis's apology and vow to never let it happen again, he opened the gate and checked for more walkers with Luis. He offered some advise, knowing it wasn't his normal morning start. He understood, but if this happened again, it wouldn't matter that he understood. This job was vital, and if Luis couldn't perform then they would have to use Michonne or Sasha, and Sasha just pulled a double shift. She was dead to the world in her bed right now, and he did not want to wake her. She was too tired to be focused, and she needed to rest. Same for Michonne. She had the wall this afternoon and tonight, and him the next day. If Luis couldn't keep focus for a couple hours then...

"It won't happen again." Luis suddenly said, and Rick turned to him. "I—I was bored, and I wasn't paying attention, but it won't happen again. I'm sorry it even happened this once. With Carol, I should have been alert, but I didn't hear anything."

"That's why you gotta watch the road."

"I know. And I will. I swear."

Rick nodded. "Good. Now close the gate once we're gone. If you see any vehicles, make damn sure it's Daryl and the others before you open that gate."

"I will."

Rick walked towards the car and got inside, glancing at Carol. "Do you need anythin' before we leave?"

"Not unless you picked the music."

"I lent my collection to Daryl, to enjoy the drive out to the hospital." He smirked as he pulled out.

"You know it's going to end up on the road, right?"

"It won't."

"How do you know it won't?"

He smirked. "Because it's stuck in the CD player."

She lightly chuckled. "He's going to kill you."

"You might too." He turned on the stereo, and she mentally cringed at the music that streamed out of it, even more so when he began to sing.

––

"It looks all right." Enid studied the pie that'd pulled out of the oven moments ago. "It smells good too."

"We should test it first." Carl picked up a fork. "Here."

"What? You made it, you try it."

"I'm going to think it's great, because I made it. That's why you have to eat it. You're impartial."

She accepted the fork just to spare an argument and dug out a piece bite with both apple and crust. She readied herself for the worst taste ever and ate it, but it wasn't awful. It wasn't mouth-watering delicious, engulf the whole pie now, but it was good. Great even.

"Well, you're not gagging this time." He scrutinized her face. "How it is?"

"It's all right." She set the fork down. "I think Carol will like it."

"Just all right?" He frowned.

"What were you hoping for?" She turned toward him.

"I dunno, just...better than all right." He knocked his knuckles on the counter then reached for the fork Enid had used, trying it for himself. He blinked then sent a slight glare her way, swallowing it. "You liar."

"Difference in opinion." She was laughing.

"I thought it was really blank, but it's not." He stepped forward, shaking his head at her, and she looked up at him, her laughter dying down some. "I worked hard on this."

"I know. It's really good. Carol will like it. It's a good thank you, and we still have enough ingredients for her to make cookies." She placed a cover on the pie and set it aside.

"Kinda sucks though."

"What do you mean?"

"When they get back, you'll be busy with your studies again, and I won't see you that much, and we've made a decent pie this time. I uh, I just like hanging out with you the past couple of weeks. It's...fun." He averted his gaze to the floor.

"It has been."

"Your classes are important, and I'm glad you take them so seriously. You'll be a great doctor—" He was interrupted by a kiss. He was stunned, because he had been working up to that. He had it kind of planned out, and he was going to make the first move, but apparently she had other plans. As always.

She pulled back and smiled at him. "I like hanging out with you too."

He chuckled, a flush crossing his cheeks at the awkward and airy sound. "We should get this pie to Carol before she leaves."

"We should."

He leaned over and kissed her forehead when she picked up the pie, and she peered up at him. He didn't say anything, just let his forehead come to rest on hers, and he saw her cheeks rise, so he knew she was smiling.

"We have a pie to deliver." She reached out and clasped his hand.

He laced his fingers through hers and gave a nod, and they headed out. It was early morning, the fog had began to clear out, and people were waking to start their shifts. They cut through the backyards to his home, climbing the steps and entering to find Olivia watching Judith.

"Hey." She greet them with a grin. "What are you two doing here?"

"Is Carol here?" Enid replied. "We have something for her."

"Carol and Rick left a couple hours ago." Michonne entered from the hall, her eyes falling to Carl and Enid's linked hands. "She couldn't sleep, so they headed out early."

"What?" Enid groaned softly. "We just made this too. It might not be good when it isn't fresh."

"Guys," Michonne smiled at them, "if you make Carol a pie, good or not, she'd still appreciate it."

"Yeah, but we wanted it to be good," Carl grumbled.

"If it's good now, it'll be good when they get back. Why don't you put it up until then? I could a hand with the wall today." Michonne put her hands on her hips. "What do you say, Enid?"

"I can help you." Carl reminded her, "We don't have class today."

"Yes, but you're helping construction today. Remember? You volunteered."

"Oh, right." He glanced at her. "I better head out then."

"I'll put this up." Enid headed to the kitchen with Olivia, thanking her for her aid.

Michonne set an arm around Carl's shoulders and teased not even a second later, "I'll take good care of your girlfriend, don't worry."

He flushed. "She can take care of herself, and she's..."

"She's?" she pressed.

"I'm gonna be late." He was out the door before she could blink.

She snickered and headed out, telling Enid to meet her at the wall. Well, she would have a story to tell Rick when he come back.

– – –

"I'll be right back." Harlan stepped out of office to assist a friend.

Rick sat beside Carol on the gurney, arms folded over his chest, and he looked over the office as Carol lied there in silence. He remembered doing this with Lori, only they would talk and laugh, and she'd say she wished he could feel what she felt sometimes when Carl moved or when he had the hiccups. She always looked so blissful, but of course she had not-so-blissful days. He simply liked to remember the good ones. The best of her.

"I'm sorry."

Carol rolled her head to the side. "You're sorry? For what?"

"Daryl should be here, not me."

"You can't control the length of their run, Rick. It's okay. I don't mind you being here. I'm...glad I'm not alone, I guess."

"I'm glad to be here," he confessed. "I haven't...see anythin' like this...since Carl."

"How did you feel?"

"I was scared, to be honest. I was worried I'd screw it up. I wasn't...ready, but when he was born, and he was here and I held him, I knew that my fear didn't matter. I had to provide. I had to set an example. I had to be a father to him." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's been...challengin', but it was the best thing I've ever done."

"He still looks more like Lori," Carol admitted.

"Yeah." He chuckled. "He does."

"Except for his eyes."

His hummed and dropped his hands. "She looked just like you," he remarked.

Carol ran her eyes over his face. "You think so?"

"Right down to the freckles."

"Thanks." She reached over for his hand, and he grasped hers affectionately. "Don't get all teary-eyed on, okay?"

He smirked and dryly mused, "I'll try not to."

Harlan joined them and began the checkup, and Rick felt guilty that Daryl wasn't here. He knew he would be here next time, but moments like these were only so few. Each time they came, they would be seeing the baby in a different form, and Daryl would be missing this one. He wouldn't let it go, Rick bet, although Rick suspected Carol would retell it just fine.

"Well, I have news." Harlan announced. "You are now in the second trimester. It further reduces the chance of a miscarriage, and things are going to get pretty exciting."

"How exciting exactly?" Rick asked.

"Well, you'll see a lot of growth, so I'd suggest finding some...comfortable clothes."

"We've got that covered. A friend of ours has made some for her, and she'll wear 'em as soon as she can't fit into her own clothes," Rick assured him, remembering that Eric wanted to know one thing. "Can we find out the sex soon? I mean...not today, but—"

"Hey, Rick, not to seem rude, but could you not hijack my pregnancy?" Carol interrupted him in a gentle tone. "My head is spinning enough, okay?"

"Sorry." He cleared his throat. "What else should...she expect?"

Carol listened to the changes she had gone through only once before, and she tried to imagine it. She knew when she told Daryl, he'd be thrilled. He would look forward to the baby's growth, to feeling it kick and move, and she suspected he would want to read to the baby. She had already seen a small collection of books in his room when she was trying to put away his laundry. She left the area untouched so he wouldn't know she saw. She couldn't wait to tell him about all of this. She hoped he would be waiting at Alexandria, or on his way here now, but that was wishful thinking.

"Do you want to know the sex?" Harlan asked Carol when the checkup had concluded.

"I don't know." She shrugged a shoulder. "It depends on if Daryl wants to. I don't mind either way."

"I'm sure he'll want to know." That was from Rick. "He's a bit impatient."

"Not always," Carol murmured so low neither man heard.

Harlan spoke to Rick a bit more about Carol's eating habits, but Carol had zoned them out, her eyes falling to the copy of the sonogram Harlan had printed off for Daryl, and she dug her nails into the mattress. Or perhaps it wasn't wishful thinking. She didn't know what had happened to delay them, or maybe they were right on time. She couldn't say, but he would be back. Today, tomorrow, next week—it didn't matter, because he would come back. That was one of the many things she loved about him.

"All right, I'll see you back here in a few weeks. You know the routine." He smiled at the pair. "Have a safe trip back."

"Thanks, Harlan." Rick gave a nod and headed out with Carol, who merely smiled her appreciation and farewell. He inhaled the icy air and stated, "I bet it's gonna hit you all at once." Rick stuffed his hands into his pocket as they strolled towards to the car.

"Huh?" She peeled her eyes off the sonogram. "What do you mean?"

"The weight. You'll be tiny until about five months in then it'll just drop."

"I'm not that small."

"You're also not showin' much, but Lori was the same way." He saw the concern about her weight on her face. "Carol, you're healthy. I'm just...thinkin' out loud. And if I thought you weren't gettin' enough food, I'd be outside those walls, huntin' food down for you. With Michonne and Maggie and Carl on my ass."

"Thanks."

"It's just the truth."

"No, for coming with me, for being here. It means a lot."

He smiled. "Of course. I...wanted to be here, and not just for you or Daryl. I have reasons of my own."

She tucked the picture into her pocket carefully and skirted around the car, pausing with her hand on the knob. "Hey, Rick?"

"Yeah?" He was tucking something away in the backseat he'd gotten from Harlan.

"If the spot were open, if Tobin hadn't picked Glenn, I'd have pick you."

He beamed and closed the space between them to hug her. "Thank you." He felt his heart ache at words he'd once spoken to her. "I picked you," was all he said, but she understood. The ache didn't fade, and he knew it'd take time to undo those words. He could never hope to earn her forgiveness, but he would try his best.

"Although Glenn is a close second."

"Do you want me to sing you again?"

"Is that a threat?"

"Not one that I'm worried about the backlash for."

"Well, Glenn is looking like a great first."

He had no retort, but he was pleased to see her joking again. He didn't know what she did for all those hours in the morning, but he was glad to see whatever it was was helping. He hoped it continued to help her. She deserved the chance to heal and to be happy and in love. If all went well on the run, he knew she was would get at least two of those three.