It was evening, and their group was sitting down for dinner. Almost everyone was there, only Michonne was absent, keeping watch in the guard tower. Carol had supervised the cooking, which she liked to do, especially if any of the others were willing to do some of the grunt work.

"I'll teach you some tricks that'll make any meal delicious, even if it's mostly made from cans," she'd say. "Now go and dice the onion, there's a good boy."

Beth and Carl were often the only ones who would help Carol now, and that was only, Rick knew, because the adults could still force them to do it.

Daryl had been hanging around the cooking activity and Rick had watched with some amusement as the hunter had liberated the odd morsel here and there. Now, however, Daryl was only pushing his food around the plate, looking faintly green again. While Rick was still covertly observing him across the length of the table Daryl abruptly got to his feet, pushing back his chair. His fork clattered to the floor, and the sound reverberated around the prison block. Everyone's eyes followed the hunter as he hurried past the group, up the stairs to the main entrance and out of sight.

"Wonder what's gotten into him," Maggie mused aloud. Rick happened that moment to look at Carol, and her brows knit together at the words. Rick thought he could see some dawning comprehension on her face. She turned her face towards him, but before she could say a word Rick had gotten up as well.

"Better check on Daryl," he mumbled and quickly walked away from the others. They had yet to decide how to raise this weird subject with the others, and until they did Rick was keen to avoid any kind of discussion.

Rick stepped through the door and scanned the vicinity. He could see Daryl a way off near one of the inner fences. Still bent double Daryl was holding on to the chain links. Rick hung back a bit until the other man had recovered somewhat. This was embarrassing enough for Daryl as it was, he didn't need people to hover over him. After all, Rick was no concerned wife. And he wasn't too keen on watching other people puke, anyway.

When Daryl looked like the worst was over for the moment Rick approached. Daryl leaned against the fence, getting his breath back.

"You all right?" Rick called over from a bit of a distance. He told himself that was because he wanted to give the man his space, but in truth he didn't trust the sickness to have passed. Not judging by the paleness of Daryl's face.

The hunter nodded. He swallowed a few times, and Rick kept well back. Finally Daryl pushed himself away from the fence and straightened up.

"Isn't is s'posed t'be morning sickness? 's almost getting dark now, and…" Daryl stopped mid-sentence, and with a groan turned round again, retching. Rick could hear the sick splatter on the concrete and retreated a ways again.

"D'you need anything, should I stay?"

Daryl motioned over his shoulder and finally managed to speak. "Jus' go back inside, 'm fine…"

Then the retching started up again, and Rick, knowing that Daryl wasn't in fact fine and probably could do with his help, retreated towards the cell block. He told himself that the hunter would just have to get through this, there was no cure for morning sickness he was aware of, but he felt tremendously guilty for feeling so relieved to get away from the puking.

The next morning Daryl came to Rick's cell very early. Rick was still half asleep and at first what Daryl was saying didn't properly register.

"'m gonna go out, get that stuff Hershel need."

"Hmmhmm...? Ok..." Rick rubbed his face and stretched. Then the meaning of the words penetrated and he sat up suddenly on his bunk. "No, actually, not ok. You can't go out there, not in your condition..."

"'m not sick, Rick! Hershel needs the stuff, t'make sure my... T'make sure this is real." Daryl was looking at Rick from under his lashes, and Rick was again powerfully reminded of Lori. She'd look at him like that when she wanted him to do something difficult, like find strawberries in January to satisfy her cravings. "'sides, was hoping you'd come with...?"

So that was how Rick ended up crouched behind a dumpster at the back entrance of their nearest medical centre. They'd picked this place over thoroughly already, but of course had ignored anything that might be useful to monitor a pregnancy. There'd been no need to worry in that regard, or so Rick had thought. Now he realized how stupid that had been. Even without this freakish occurrence there was enough tension in the air for a lot of casual sex to be happening. Just because nobody had told him about it didn't mean the others all weren't at it like rabbits.

Rick gave himself a mental shake. Now he was definitely getting paranoid. He looked over at Daryl who was crouching by his side. Even for him the hunter had been exceptionally quiet on their trip. Now he was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Rick nudged him lightly against his leg. Daryl's eyes snapped open.

"You ok? Feeling sick again?"

Daryl shook his head. "Jus' tired. Slept all day yesterday, an' still could do with some more..."

He straightened up, and looked at Rick. Rick thought he was gathering up his courage to ask something difficult.

"Yer a dad…"

"Yes…" Rick prompted cautiously.

"I… I have no experience with babies. Feeding Lil Asskicker now and then's all fine an'…an' stuff, but…" Daryl looked at Rick, worry clear as day on his face. "Will y'help me? I mean, if this turns out t'be a real baby, can y'teach me how't'be a dad?"

Rick suddenly felt a surge of affection for his friend. He was worried that Daryl would be disappointed, that this pregnancy turned out to be the disaster it should by all rights be. But all of a sudden he wanted it to be real, wanted Daryl to be a dad. Have a baby around to bring up together with Judith… Daryl would be great at this, he just knew. Rick smiled at the hunter and gave his leg a squeeze.

"Course I will. I'll be Uncle Rick."

Daryl's eyes filled with tears. No longer exasperated, and still riding that wave of affection Rick leaned over and beckoned Daryl over. Usually not the hugging type Daryl let Rick enfold him in his arms. Daryl clung to Rick hard and Rick didn't mind that the moment stretched. This man needed all the support he could get now, whatever happened. Rick tightened the embrace and buried his face against Daryl's neck.

"I'll always be there for you man, whatever happens."

That evening found Hershel, Daryl and Rick hidden away again in Daryl's cell. Rick and Daryl had indeed found a portable ultrasound machine in the local hospital, and after charging the battery packs stealthily hidden behind some supply boxes all afternoon they were finally ready to investigate this mystery further.

Rick felt nervous. They had brought back two bulging bags of other equipment, all carefully selected according to a list Hershel had drawn up before they left. Some of the instruments had made Rick shudder, and a couple of especially large syringes still dwelled on his mind now, making him feel ill. How were they ever going to get through this, he wondered.

Now, however, he tried to focus on the two men in the cell with him, and the beeping machine between them. Hershel was bent over the monitor, muttering to himself as he moved a sensor back and forth across Daryl's exposed midriff. Rick was leaning against the wall by the head end of the bed, looking down at the monitor, trying to make something out. Nobody spoke for a long time, while the tension mounted. Finally, Daryl broke the silence with a curse.

"D'ya wanna wait till that thing rips a path out of m'guts after nine months or are y'gonna tell me what's going on?"

Rick silently agreed with the sentiment. He could feel the nervousness in the other man, and hated being helpless in this situation. On an impulse he crouched down and placed a hand on Daryl's shoulder. "What can you tell us, Hershel? Is it a baby? Or something… else?"

Hershel still took his time. He looked at the monitor some more, frowning, then finally turned to face them both.

"It's a baby, that's for sure. It has a heartbeat, and it's moving. In fact," he scratched his head in puzzlement, "It looks pretty normal for a fetus or around twenty, twenty-one weeks."

Rick could feel the tension ease in Daryl. He squeezed the hunter's shoulder, and Daryl looked round at him. There was a smile on Daryl's face, again reminding Rick eerily of Lori. Now that similarity no longer jarred, however. Rick smiled back, stroking Daryl's shoulder absent-mindedly. But he still had questions.

"Where is this, uh… fetus, though? I mean, Daryl doesn't exactly have a…y'know?"

Hershel nodded, looking thoughtful again. "That's the odd thing. It looks like some kind of pouch, or sac, has formed around the baby." He looked at Daryl. "I don't know how that could be, but be grateful. Otherwise it'd get tangled in your intestines and your inner organs, and then we'd have no choice but to remove it."

Rick could feel the tension mounting again in Daryl. "We're not goin' t'get rid of it!" Daryl's voice was scared now, and Rick could hear the tears threatening in it again. Not again! No more crying on his watch. He leaned down and forced Daryl to look up.

"Don't worry, all right? We're not getting rid of it, ok?"

Daryl wouldn't meet his eyes properly for a moment, but then he looked up, his gaze half desperate, half hopeful, and nodded.

"'kay…"

Rick straightened up again but left his hand on Daryl's shoulder. He looked at Hershel, then unseeingly at the sheet covering the door. He sighed.

"Now we need to figure out what to tell the others…"