"Come again?"

Carol's voice broke the awkward silence like a gunshot. She looked from Daryl to Hershel, to Rick, and back to Daryl.

"If this is a joke, guys, it's not funny…"

"What do you mean, If?" Maggie interjected. "Of course it's a joke. Right, daddy?"

Hershel sighed. "I wish it was. I really…"

And then suddenly everyone was talking at once. Rick looked around the room, everyone gesticulating wildly, trying to shout the loudest, be heard by Hershel, have their questions answered. Glenn was shaking his head, Maggie had her arms crossed. They were taking it as badly as he had expected. As badly as he had himself.

Then Rick looked at Daryl, who was the only one being entirely silent. Eyes downcast, bottom lip trembling he looked ready to burst into tears again. No, Rick decided, he couldn't deal with that. Not on top of everything else!

"Silence!"

Rick's shout reverberated around the cell block, magnified by steel and concrete. As the sound faded away a total silence descended. That was better!

"Thank you. Now, one thing at a time…"

It was Carol who recovered her bravado first. "So you're saying we have a pregnant man here. How's that even possible, Rick?"

"We don't know how, is the truth. It really shouldn't be possible. Hershel has a theory, at least to the how it happened. It has to do with the virus, the one that landed us all in this mess. Remember when Daryl had that accident with the horse? We think that the crossbow bolt carried some walker DNA into his, um... His belly. And somehow that combined with his own..."

"So it's a walker?" Trust Carol to pick up the scariest scenario first.

"No!" Hershel straightened up." It has a heartbeat..."

"He."

Everyone looked round at Daryl who seemed finally ready to join the discussion about his condition.

"Sorry?" Carol again.

"Don' call him it. It's a he."

"How do you know?"

Rick would have dearly liked to know that too. But Daryl just shrugged. "Dunno. Jus' know..."

Lori flashback again, accompanied with a strong surge of protective instinct. Rick would have loved to reach out and rub Daryl's back, where it had tensed up defensively. Great, more confusion. What did these emotions mean that he was suddenly experiencing every time he looked at Daryl?

"But..."

"Carol, not now." Rick rubbed his eyes. "Let's take this one problem at a time..."

"Ok then. Tell me this." Glenn this time. "What are we gonna do about it?"

"Do about it?" This time Rick did reach out a hand and placed it placatory on Daryl's back as the hunter half rose to his feet.

"Daryl, stay calm. Remember, they have just heard about this. It's hard to stomach." Rick kept his voice low, and his hand on Daryl. After a moment of glaring first at Glenn then Rick Daryl dropped his gaze and nodded. He didn't shrug off Rick's hand.

Rick looked straight at Glenn. "According to Hershel's scan the... Jeez, the pregnancy is progressing normally. The, um, fetus seems healthy. And has a heartbeat."

He looked at the old man. "You think Daryl will be able to carry this baby to term? And that it can be born, ah..."

"By caesarian section, yes." Hershel's gaze was almost amused, presumably, Rick thought, at his own discomfort.

Glenn looked at Rick oddly, and Rick realized he still had his hand on Daryl's back, was in fact stroking the other man gently. He dropped his hand quickly. Rick thought he saw disappointment cross Daryl's face but avoided looking at him directly.

"So what now, then?"

"Now," Hershel supplied, "We make sure Daryl gets enough food, and plenty of rest. And we wait."

It was a strange time after that. The others treated Daryl with a curious mix of compassion and wariness. Carol was the most practical about it. Once satisfied that whatever was growing in Daryl's belly posed no imminent threat she had offered to help Hershel with the antenatal care.

"The word makes me want to break out in hysterical laughter," Rick overheard her saying, and knew exactly how Carol felt. "But at least I know a little already from when you taught me before. And also, no disrespect, but with only men involved in bringing this child, if that's indeed what it is, into this world something is bound to go wrong."

Rick privately agreed with her there, too.

The truth was, he was ridiculously out of his depth here, and yet had a strange desire to be around Daryl and help him as much as he could. And that was proving increasingly difficult.

Rick couldn't decide what was worst, the mood swings or the morning sickness. Scrap morning. Constant sickness, it seemed. Rick never knew how he'd find Daryl. Buoyant and eating everything in sight, regardless the time of day or night, or miserable and pale, suddenly running for the bathroom or nearest shrubbery. The odd thing was, Daryl's misery really bothered Rick, and he started doing everything he could to make Daryl feel better.

Daryl also started behaving extremely erratically. They were all used to him being moody, but nobody was prepared for the crying fits and temper tantrums. Rick knew the hunter couldn't really help it, but being at the mercy of Daryl's rampant hormones was getting tired rather quickly. It had its compensations, though. Suddenly craving human contact where before Daryl had usually jumped a mile if someone even accidentally touched him Rick found himself at the receiving end of long hugs and casual caresses even more than the others. Rick decided he rather liked it. There were worse ways of ending a day than sitting on a bench in the common area with Daryl resting his head in his lap and falling asleep. The others had given Rick odd looks when once or twice he had absently started stroking Daryl's hair in that situation. He didn't really mind, and the hunter's hair, surprisingly soft, felt nice under his hands. The ritual soon became almost nightly, and it was soothing to Rick's nerves.

"Please, Rick, let me go out. Please, just for an hour. I need to get out, it's driving me mad!"

It was now, by Hershel's best approximation, 38 weeks into Daryl's pregnancy. His belly was huge, and he'd been ungainly and slow for several weeks. He was also being increasingly clumsy, and Rick had decided that it was no longer safe for him outside the fence. There had been a hairy incident where Daryl, tired from a foray, had sat down to rest just a couple hundred yards away from the gate, and promptly fallen asleep. Rick had gone out looking for him when dusk had started to fall and had found him just in time to dispatch the two walkers that were advancing on their hunter to take a bite.

"Please, Rick? Come with me. You can ride the bike, I'll ride pillion. Won't have much time at all soon, lemme be out on the bike just once more, for an hour..."

Somehow, Rick had had an increasingly hard time refusing Daryl anything lately. He looked into pleading blue eyes, and was once again reminded forcefully of Lori as she'd been pregnant with Carl. Why was it that he couldn't resist pregnant wom... Shit, pregnant people's every whim? Must be a hormonal thing, Rick supposed. He sighed.

"All right, meet me out front in ten minutes."

Daryl beamed. "Thank you. I'll get my crossbow."

As he walked away Rick thought Daryl was almost skipping. Surely, the world had gone mad all around him.

They drove out on Daryl's motorcycle. Rick, always practical, decided to combine this unplanned outing with a foray into the closest town. He reckoned that, with their people having traveled that way recently and finding the area deserted, there wasn't too much of a risk of running into large numbers of walkers.

Rick was glad Daryl has suggested the chopper, too. The hunter was now really too slow on his feet to roam the woods, and while they certainly must have presented an amusing sight to any onlookers, Daryl and his belly slightly awkwardly perched behind Rick who was not the most at ease in the saddle, it wasn't too uncomfortable a way to travel. Truth was, Rick rather enjoyed the feel of the wind on his face as he steered the motorcycle down the winding country road.

They got to the little town without incident and parked the bike on the deserted main street. When Rick glanced at Daryl once the man had awkwardly clambered off the seat behind him he thought he saw a split second's discomfort cross his face. It was gone quickly, though, and Rick decided not to say anything. This outing had been Daryl's idea after all, and Rick was still a little exasperated. If the hunter suffered a little now all the better. Maybe he'd be less of a pain in the ass in future and stayed put when told to.

They approached one of the stores cautiously, Rick with his Python drawn and Daryl with the crossbow cocked. Everything seemed quiet, but that didn't mean things wouldn't turn sour quickly. Rick pulled ahead of Daryl and climbed the two steps up to the store entrance. He was keen to check the coast was clear himself. Rick was about to push the door open with one hand when there came a groan from behind him. He spun round.

"Daryl, what is it?"

The hunter had lowered his weapon, one hand pressed into his side. The crossbow clattered to the ground as Daryl groped for the bannister by the store's staircase. He groaned again, breathing shallow and rapid.

"'s my belly. 't hurts..." Daryl groaned again, his knees sagging. He breathed through the pain, then looked at Rick. "'s not time yet, 'm not ready... Rick what's going on?"

It seemed to Rick that, like in every normal pregnancy, this baby operated to its own schedule, whether they were ready or not. As Rick looked on, momentarily paralyzed with shock, Daryl doubled over again and this time his knees gave way and he sank onto the top step, moaning softly.

"We gotta get back."

Rick was moving before his brain had quite caught up with the situation.

"Just... hmm... lemme... phhh... sit here... ahhh... for a... huuuh... moment..."

Rick knelt down in front of Daryl and looked at him. The hunter's eyes were closed. Rick took Daryl's hands in his, and the other man looked at him with a gaze slightly out of focus.

"Daryl, this baby wants out. And you, uh... need Hershel for that!"

Daryl looked suddenly scared. "It really hurts Rick. Why does it hurt so much? Is that normal?"

Rick couldn't exactly recall in how much pain Lori had been at the birth. He hoped that this amount of pain was normal. Putting on a brave face he nodded.

"Yes, entirely normal. C'mon."

He stood up, not letting go of Daryl's hands. "You gotta get up, man. I'll help you, but you need to want to move, too."

Somehow they got Daryl back onto his feet. Rick supported him over to the motorcycle, stopping briefly to pick up the crossbow. For a while it seemed impossible for Daryl to climb onto the bike and Rick held him up as he breathed through another couple of contractions. Finally, with a lot of muttered curses and awkwardness, they both made it onto the bike.

The drive back to the prison was uncomfortable, to say the least. Rick thought at one point Daryl had broken one of his ribs for sure, he was holding on so hard. When they got back Carol opened the gate for them. She hurried after them and was there in time to help Rick catch Daryl as he half toppled off the bike.

"What happened? Daryl, are you hurt."

"'s the baby. 's not ready yet. Carol, 's not time. We gotta stop it..."

"There is no stopping this, Daryl." She held him as another contraction hit. "This baby is coming now. Let's get you inside..."

"I can' do this, Carol. How d'women stand the pain?! Kill me?"

Rick had never heard Daryl so desperate.

"Well we're a tough lot, we girls. You can do it, I promise. It'll be over soon." Carol threw Rick a worried look as they helped Daryl inside. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Rick very much hoped that Hershel did, because he had no clue himself.

While Carol hurried ahead Rick stood, supporting Daryl who stopped suddenly, breathing through another contraction. He clutched at Rick hard, and Rick could feel the hunter shaking in his arms. Daryl was getting weaker, they had to get this over with as quickly as possible.

It seemed to take forever to get Daryl into his cell. They had moved all his things into a cell on the ground floor a couple of months ago when climbing the stairs every time he had to get up to pee at night had become too tiring. In particular, since Daryl seemed to pee about twenty times a night as the baby grew and pressed onto everything inside, including his bladder.

There had been no end of bitching from Daryl about this, and from anyone who had been out on runs with the hunter, because of course the peeing wasn't restricted to night times, and they'd started scheduling in an inordinate amount of bathroom stops for each trip. In fact, Rick was suspicious of his own motives as to why he'd stopped Daryl leaving the prison. He suspected the constant complaints from the others had had something to do with it as well.

Rick and Glenn had also modified the bunk in Daryl's cell in the same way as Glenn had done for his and Maggie's bed. Using welding equipment they had separated the top bunk and created a double bed which would allow Daryl to be more comfortable while he recovered after the birth.

What nobody knew was that on occasion Rick had taken advantage of the extra bed space and spent the night in Daryl's cell. When hearing Daryl crying one night while passing his cell Rick had gone in to check on the other man, and somehow he'd ended up holding Daryl until he went to sleep. It seemed silly to go back to his own bed since there was plenty of space. Somehow, sleeping together had become a habit after that. Rick always left before anyone else was up, but since their closeness seemed to help Daryl cope Rick saw no reason not to be there for his friend.

Now, though, it was just Daryl they had to get onto the bed. Rick was still holding him up and was just wiping away the sweat from his own brow as Hershel arrived. Carol followed with Hershel's kit and a plastic sheet. She squeezed past the men and spread the sheet over the bed. The implications of this precaution made Rick feel slightly sick.

"Let's do this!" Hershel was all business. "Rick, help Daryl take his pants off, then get him onto the bed."

Rick did as he was told. He had tried not to think about this part of the process over the last few months and was glad that someone else was taking charge. Daryl was breathing hard again, and was not being a great help in anything. Halfway through undressing another contraction hit and he would have crumpled to the floor had Rick not held him up. That was when Carol came to their aid and finally Daryl was on the bed, looking up at Rick with eyes full of fear and pain. Rick's heart went out to his friend and he took Daryl's hand. Daryl held on hard.

"Y'gonna stay?"

Rick surprised himself by nodding without hesitation. Hershel looked from him to Daryl.

"All right, then. Rick, sit." Hershel pushed a stool to the top end of the bed. "Just stay out of the way, ok? There's hardly enough room in here as it is."

Again, Rick did as he was told. Hershel turned to Daryl. "Lie on your side, facing the wall. I'll give you the epidural."

Hershel had stated early on the obvious fact they were all aware of: A cesarean section was the only way to get the baby out. There had been weeks of discussion on how to keep the pain bearable for Daryl during the procedure. All the teams going out on runs had been told to search for drugs that would either put him under (plus oxygen and all the equipment they'd need for a full anesthetic) or numb him from the chest down. Finally Glenn and Maggie had been in luck: They found a small stash of bupivacaine and fentanyl, so an epidural it was going to be.

Daryl rolled over and Rick quickly looked away as Hershel inserted the biggest needed Rick had ever seen into the other man's back. Daryl hissed once, but was otherwise silent.

"Ok, all done," Hershel said after a few minutes. "We'll wait 15 minutes now for this to start working."

Hershel then went on to insert another needle into the back of Daryl's hand and attached it to an IV drip. This time Rick watched. He was starting to feel oddly detached, as if Hershel had numbed him, too. Then the next contraction hit and Daryl curled up on the bed, groaning. Rick gripped his shoulder, trying to comfort his friend but feeling more and more helpless.

"Don't push, Daryl, even if you feel you have to." Hershel's voice was starting to betray the strain they all felt. "There is nowhere for the baby to move to, and if you push too much you could do you both damage."

Hershel took his stethoscope out of the kit bag and listened to Daryl's belly, then to his chest, for a long time. He looked worried now. Rick caught the old man's eye and Hershel gave him a grave look. He shook his head very slightly, which Rick understood to mean that something wasn't right, but that they weren't to alarm Daryl. Rick looked down at their hunter, trying to remember what he'd done for Lori at this point during her labor with Carl, but drawing a blank. His hand came up almost automatically and he smoothed away a few strands of hair from the other man's forehead. Daryl felt worryingly warm under his fingers.

Daryl's eyes half closed and he leaned into the touch. As his sleepy, unfocused gaze met Rick's eyes Rick smiled at him encouragingly, squeezing Daryl's shoulder again. His heart was filled with dread, but he was determined to help Daryl stay calm.

"Not long now, man. It'll all be over soon."

Daryl nodded sleepily as Hershel moved into position with what looked like a knife to Rick. He quickly focused back on Daryl. He had to remember not to look down or he'd lose the battle with his nerves.

"Daryl, I'll get started now. You focus on Rick, but don't go to sleep, ok?"

"M'kay…"

Daryl's voice was no more than a whisper. His gaze never left Rick's, and Rick was grateful for the connection. He focused on Daryl's eyes, noting not for the first time how brilliantly blue they were. It was unusual for their hunter to be so still for so long, or to look at anyone with such intensity. For a moment nothing seemed to exist in the world except Daryl. There was something indescribable in Daryl's gaze, and Rick almost knew what it was. But then the other man frowned.

"Rick, you ok?"

Rick gave himself a mental shake. "Course. Just a bit nervous, you know. You feel ok? Any pain?"

"M'fine…"

Daryl sounded more sleepy than ever now, his eyes were starting to fall shut further. Rick was about to say something when suddenly Daryl's eyes widened again and he gave a shudder. The atmosphere inside the cell changed. Rick knew he had to look at what Hershel and Carol were doing, even if he didn't want to. He closed his eyes for a second, steeling himself for the sight of blood, and worse, a baby that wasn't really a baby at all. Then he heard the tiniest mewling sound. He looked round and saw Hershel holding a small, wet-looking bundle. Hershel caught his eyes and smiled, then looked at Daryl.

"It's a boy, and he's perfect." He handed the baby to Carol. "Let me just finish up while Carol cleans him. I want to make sure to get all the tissue and…"

"Okay, good, do what you have to do. Just don't talk about it!" Rick was feeling the panic rise again. Hershel gazed at him, and Rick thought he looked amused.

"Just stay focused on Daryl, then. Keep him calm until I'm done here."

Rick looked down again at Daryl who had started to move his hands restlessly. Rick took them in both of his own, his thumbs absent-mindedly stroking Daryl's wrists. The hunter started to calm down at once. Rick looked up.

"Hershel, did you drug him?"

The old man looked almost guilty. "Just a mild sedative, to keep him calm. I didn't want him to get too stressed, so he wouldn't bleed too much. He's coming out of it already, just keep him quiet for a few more minutes while I finish the sutures…"

"Rick…"

About to protest again at Hershel's oversharing Rick was distracted by Daryl who was trying to pull away from his grasp. Rick let go of one of his hands and placed gentle fingers against Daryl's face instead.

"Hey, man, it's ok. We're almost done here…"

Daryl's eyes were still glazed over as he tried to focus on Rick. "The baby… he alright?"

"He's fine, Daryl. Just perfect. Carol is washing him now, you can see him in a moment."

"'kay… Rick…?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you…"

"Don't mention it."

"But you did… help, I mean… even though it's so weird… I… I was thinking…"

Daryl turned his head away, going faintly pink. Rick gently took his chin and turned his face back towards himself. "What, Daryl? You can tell me. After all this…"

"I… would you mind if we called him Rick?"

Daryl looked uncertain, almost as if he expected to be told off. The emotions Rick felt were indescribable now, even to himself. He squeezed Daryl's hand again.

"Would I mind? Daryl, I would be honored."