Here it is, the second and final chapter from our girl Maggie's point of view. This one's a little longer but I hope you make it through and enjoy it. This story is basically me trying to piece together Maggie's thoughts, late season 5, and how she came to terms with the pregnancy. It's by no means a straight forward process, so if you're looking for nothing but fluff, there's nothing wrong with that, but you won't find it here. (Although there is some sap, I couldn't really resist with these two.)

I don't think I'm done telling this story, and I'm planning on pushing myself to explore Glenn's point of view next. As always, give me your thoughts in the comments or at rosy-doze DOT tumblr DOT com, I'd love hearing more ideas from anyone. There's a criminal lack of Gleggie this season, so we gotta make up for it somehow, right?

Maggie went about her normal life. Well, as normal as life could be. It definitely felt strange to her, living in Alexandria. Electricity, running water, shampoo, those were all things she'd gotten used to living without.

She might have been able to adjust to getting those back, if she didn't also have to get used to all the new people around her. She'd only been with the same group of people for such a long time; oh sure, now and then a new person or two would join them and that would be different, but even when the Woodbury people had come to the prison, it hadn't been as strange as adjusting to Alexandria.

It was harder because this time her people were the outsiders. They were the ones who had to adjust and change and try to blend in because they could be told to leave as easily as they were asked to stay.

Those last few months at the farm felt like a different life (really any time at the farm felt like that) but still she found herself reminiscing about how much her daddy wanted Rick and the others off their land. Back then, she was one of the ones who needed convincing that the world was over. Maggie remembered how she came around faster than the rest of her family did. Mostly because of Glenn but also because she was still the curious, questioning girl from before the walkers appeared. She had still been open to new, dangerous things, which, yes, got her into trouble, but it also led to her convincing her dad to give Rick and the others a chance. Or at least stalling him until his stubbornness wore out.

Since Beth had died, Maggie hadn't felt like that girl at all. She'd lost her determination and had begun to question the point in even trying. For a short but frightening period of time, Glenn was the only thing that kept her from doing something drastic. But she couldn't stay that way for long, partly because it wasn't in her to be defeatist, but also because of Alexandria, and what it had started to remind her of.

Hope, humanity, normalcy.

A second chance.

All of these were things she and Glenn worked for at the prison, and what they had hoped to find in Terminus.

So with her daddy, Beth, and Glenn in mind, Maggie committed herself to making Alexandria work.

Working with Deanna was comfortable. They became close quickly, which made sense when Maggie thought about it. Maggie loved her group and would do anything for them, but she was guiltily happy to be spending time with someone different for a change. Deanna was friendly and passionate and hopeful but most importantly talkative. She talked Maggie's ear off not just about her plans for Alexandria, but her life as a congresswoman, her family, and more. And when she ran out of things to say, she demanded to know more about Maggie's life. Maggie made an effort to steer away from questions about the group, knowing Deanna and Rick's relationship was tenuous at best, but she could talk about Glenn for hours. She tried not to, not wanting to sound boy-crazy, but every story she told Deanna was met with a wistful smile and a demand for more detail.

It was during that time that Maggie realized she had never really had the chance to gush about Glenn. She already knew their relationship was never going to look anything like relationships before the end of the world, but it was still nice to sit down at a kitchen table and brag about her husband and pretend, if only for a little while. But her gossiping wasn't entirely without agenda: she hoped that with every story she relayed, it would make it harder for Deanna to kick them out.

One afternoon they were sitting in Deanna's living room taking a break from planning; Deanna was telling Maggie about walking in on a 7 year old Aiden putting lipstick and eye shadow on a 5 year old Spencer. One moment Maggie was listening to her impression of Aiden trying to convince his brother that all boys wear makeup and the next she was being gently shaken awake by a confused Deanna.

"I let you sleep for a while but it's getting late, the others will think I kidnapped you," her boss said.

Sure enough, Maggie saw that the sun was definitely higher in the sky when she last had her eyes open. Embarrassed and groggy in that way that naps always made her, it took her a moment to notice the blanket Deanna apparently covered her with, and the pillow that she didn't think was on the couch earlier.

Her body protested as she sat up and apologized profusely for passing out in the middle of their conversation. Maggie knew with a sinking heart that every interaction she and her friends had with Deanna impacted their lives, and she felt guilty for being so careless.

More than that, she was confused by what had just happened. Even as the sleepy haze faded, her brain struggled to catch up to the fact that yes, she just fell asleep on an almost-stranger's couch and no, that wasn't normal. Not only the location but the act itself; Maggie hadn't taken a nap since college, and definitely not since the walkers started.

"Come on," Deanna said, interrupting her thoughts. "I'll walk you home, try to explain myself to the others and maybe sneak one of Carol's cookies."

Still embarrassed, Maggie futilely hoped that she would make it through the short walk home in silence, but she should have known better. In all the time she'd spent with her, Deanna hadn't been silent for longer than 30 consecutive seconds, and she didn't break that habit now.

"Are you getting enough sleep? I'm not overworking you, am I?"

Maggie was quick to reassure her, "No, God, no, I love our work." She wanted to offer another, simple explanation, but she couldn't think of one before Deanna countered, "What about Glenn? Is he overworking you? I remember Reg at that age –"

She cut Deanna off before she could finish, "Definitely not," and, realizing Deanna would just come up with more and more explanations, each one likely more embarrassing than the last, Maggie speculated vaguely, "Probably just the last few weeks catching up to me. You know – adrenaline carries you through the worst of it and then –"

Deanna seemed to accept that, but Maggie couldn't. It didn't make any sense: they'd been through tough times before, like the months on the road before they found the prison. She still hadn't ever been this tired, especially not all of the sudden and not after a good night's sleep. Even as she walked with Deanna, she felt like she could've gone back to sleep if she could only find something to lie down on.

They reached the house that Maggie knew the others would be at. They'd recently started sleeping in their own rooms – thank God because Eugene snored – but they still ate together and used one of the houses as a home base. Walking in, Maggie gravitated to the armchair where Glenn was sitting, eating dinner in. There were other chairs open, but none close enough to him to satisfy her, and she was too lazy (exhausted) to drag one over.

"Well hello there," he said, amused at the way she took his plate from him, draped herself across his lap, and set the plate back down in hers. "You're late, what kept you?"

Taking the liberty of eating Glenn's food, Maggie said in between bites, "Tell you later," too self-conscious to admit to her impromptu nap in front of the others.

She shouldn't have been, only a few people were paying attention to them, the rest were listening in on Deanna's conversation with Carol about cookie recipes, of all things.

Maggie handed Glenn's plate back to him, inexplicably full. It was strange, how some days she had thought she would never be full again, and now it was happening too much to count. Food here just didn't appeal to her; Daryl noticed a few nights back and claimed she missed the squirrel they used to eat.

It wasn't that though. Maggie didn't know what it was.

Before taking the plate Glenn asked, "You sure? You didn't eat a lot."

"Yeah. Had some stuff at Deanna's." She wasn't sure why she lied. She just knew she didn't want him to worry about her; he had plenty on his mind.

Deanna left with a last wave at Maggie, but she was already half asleep again. This time, she realized it was happening but didn't fight it. Glenn shifted her so he could set the plate down on the ground but when he leaned back again Maggie took the opportunity to curl in closer to him, her head resting comfortably on his chest. She was asleep minutes later.

He must have carried her to bed (and she must've really been asleep because she loved him, but Glenn wasn't strong enough to do that smoothly) because she woke up in bed the next morning to soft kisses on her neck, a warm hand on her thigh, and the smell of flowery laundry detergent in her nose.

It was the last thing that made her bolt up from bed (clocking Glenn's forehead in the process) and run to the bathroom, making it to toilet before emptying her stomach of last night's dinner.

She heard a confused, "Uh, babe?" and then Glenn's footsteps behind her. He knelt down behind her and asked, concerned, "You okay?"

The initial sickness had died down enough for her to look up and shoot him a death-glare with a wordless really? attached to it. He caught on and shut up then, offering her more helpful support with one hand on her back and the other holding her hair.

It ended as suddenly as it began, and she leaned her head against the cold porcelain for a moment before sitting back up. Still not speaking, she flushed the toilet and went to stand up, only to find herself not quite ready to be vertical. She staggered for a moment and steadied herself on Glenn's shoulder. Glenn, more alarmed now, asked, "Maggie? What's wrong?"

Confused herself but trying to be reassuring, she dismissed his concerns as casually as she could with the wooziness that had overtaken her, "Fine, I'm fine. Just – just stood up a little fast." Apparently not convinced she wasn't immediately going to fall over, Glenn wrapped his arm around her, leading her to the sink.

"Well here, you should get cleaned up and then go back to bed. I'll swing by Deanna's and tell her you're not feeling well," He kept going, offering her food or water, asking if he should stay home from his run, all while squirting toothpaste on her toothbrush for her. He was being ridiculous. Normally she'd yell at him for treating her like a baby but just as those words formed in her head she startled.

Like a baby.

Crap.

No. No way.

As if it would cleanse the idea from her head, she took the proffered toothbrush and forcefully cleaned her teeth. When she spit, she hovered over the sink for a moment, first watching the toothpaste drain away and then staring at herself in the mirror as if that would tell her what she needed to know.

Glenn's monologue of ways he could help her cut off abruptly when he saw her face. He asked, "Mags? You need to throw up again?"

She snapped back to reality, told Glenn it was nothing – food poisoning or a stomach bug – and took his advice to spend the rest of the morning in bed.

Maggie even managed to convince him to go on his run, saying she'd be fine and that plenty of the others were around to help her if she wasn't. It was only after he reluctantly left that she let herself do the math. Her grasp on time was shaky after the slow, torturous pace of the last few weeks, but still she knew that she was overdue for her period.

But not by much, and her cycle had been a little irregular for a long time now. She reminded herself that, by her best guess, her period wasn't even as late this time as it was the last time she thought she was pregnant. It was silly for her to worry about it, not after she'd seen last time how quickly scares turned out to be nothing. With that reassurance, she let herself forget it all and fall back asleep.

When she woke up for the second time, she felt fine again. Her nausea disappeared as suddenly as it had arrived, taking her paranoia with it. As she moved about her day, she told herself that throwing up once didn't mean anything. If she was pregnant, she would be more queasy or cranky. She would cry at the drop of a hat and yell at Glenn for nothing but most importantly, she would know.

Shouldn't pregnancy come with some kind of intuition? For God's sake, if a baby was inside her, wouldn't she already know somehow? Hypothetically (really, hypothetically) if there was a baby, she would be going through 9 months of hell for it, the least it could do would be to let her know.

Deep down, she knew that her body was trying to tell her. That the tiredness that she'd felt yesterday wasn't because of Beth dying or adjusting to a new home. And if she was being honest with herself, throwing up that morning wasn't the first time she'd felt nauseas – just the first time she'd had to act on it.

But she wasn't ready to think about what that meant, so instead she comforted herself with the memory of the last time she thought she was pregnant – just recently, before the prison fell. Maggie had been so sure of it that time, and it had turned out to be nothing after all.

Getting worked up over it had been a mistake, as was telling Glenn and freaking him out when all that was wrong was a late period. No, this time around it was much smarter to wait for some kind of definitive evidence. Without a pregnancy test (and with no way of getting one since she wasn't going on runs anymore, and her husband, the one person she absolutely could not tell was, of course, the one going on the runs) Maggie got exactly what she wanted: to ignore it, put it off, pretend it didn't exist, and go about her normal life.

The funny thing was, if she really had been pregnant back at the prison, she would've been okay with it. She knew that because she really thought she was pregnant back then, she was almost positive, and she was scared, but in an exhilarated sort of way. And she felt the same way after she and Glenn risked having sex when they reunited. Even though it had been an impulse decision, driven by desperation instead of sense, she had been confident in her ability to face any possible consequences. She had been sure in a bone-deep way that things would be alright, despite any evidence to the contrary.

It was like that feeling she used to get at the top of a roller coaster, sort of queasy and shaky but in an excited kind of way. Like she'd been on the roller coaster and slowly building up to the top for a while; even though she was still scared, she was ready, because that was what the ride was all about.

But she lost that feeling the moment she saw her dead sister. That was like careening back down the roller coaster's tracks to the bottom again, but backwards and rapid-paced. It was like having the rug pulled out from under her and that last stair go missing and the lights go out all at once.

On second thought, it wasn't funny at all.

Days went by and things at Alexandria got more complicated. She wasn't in the middle of any drama, but seeing Glenn go through everything with Noah's death and Tara's injury almost made her wish she was. It wasn't that she missed the fear involved with runs, but she found that watching her loved ones going on runs without her was far worse than going through them herself.

She hadn't been the one left behind in a while. She hated it just as much as she remembered.

Because of all of this, it was no surprise Maggie hadn't had the chance to tell Glenn her suspicion that was getting surer with every day that passed. She had no idea if she would've told him by now if their lives were less insane, but she knew it was pointless to play guessing games.

They hadn't talked about the future since that morning on the walk to Terminus and on the way to Washington. Back then, it seemed like the whole world was opening up; they had the cure, they had a plan, and they had each other.

Now the world had closed up and shrunk down to whatever the square footage of Alexandria was. Their group was safe but trapped and their progress was stagnated by a mutual reluctance to hope for more. Having a baby was just about the very definition of hoping for more, and when she let herself think about it she wanted to punch herself for making such an irrational mistake in the tunnel that night all those weeks ago.

Maggie was pregnant (she could almost admit that now) and it was all her fault (coming to terms with that was strangely easier).

Maybe that was part of the reason she was reluctant to tell Glenn this time, as opposed to their last pregnancy scare when she told him right away. This time it wasn't a broken condom, a mutual mistake, but all her own doing. He'd been ready to pull out but she'd asked, no, begged him to stay inside of her. She thought about how Glenn might have teased her if, in another world, this mistake wasn't life-threatening but then she caught herself.

Glenn wouldn't ever blame her, or even laugh at her if it was funny – he wasn't that kind of guy. In any world, but especially this one, he would try to say they were equally responsible, that he knew exactly what he was doing.

(She knew they were really a married couple because she could have this argument with him in her head.)

So no, her reasons for not telling him were more straight forward than that.

She didn't tell him because she didn't want to scare him. Despite his hopeful outlook the morning after they found each other and in the weeks that followed, she worried how Glenn would react. How knowing she was pregnant would change him.

He would be different when he found out. More focused, more serious, more protective.

Those are all good things in this dangerous world, but Glenn had already changed so much from that goofball in a baseball hat she met a little over a year ago. She looked at Rick and saw how cold and ruthless he had to become, and she knew part of that is from having to keep Carl and Judith safe.

She didn't want that for Glenn, not yet.

And besides, unlike her, he still risked his life going outside the walls, making runs. She told herself that she was keeping him safe, not distracting him before the day she absolutely had to.

(She had no clue how she would know when that day would come, but that wasn't something she dwelled on.)

It turned out to be a night, rather than a day, when she realized she couldn't put it off any longer.

Nicholas left the infirmary with one last strange look at Glenn, but before she could question it, Glenn and the others pulled her back into a conversation about the chaos of the group meeting earlier.

She explained as best as she could, but they must have picked up on her reluctance to talk in depth about it because their questions died down quickly. She was just sick of clashing with people they should be getting along with. She had hope that tonight was a turning point in her group's alliance with Deanna and her people, but Reg shouldn't have had to die for it to happen. Maybe it was seeing another father killed so brutally with Michonne's sword that unsettled her.

With Glenn not offering any more information on his night and Maggie's reluctance to talk about hers, the infirmary was silent while she cleaned and bandaged his shoulder, the simple task taking her mind off the stress and worry in the rest of her life. While she desperately wanted to go home and further distance herself and Glenn from whatever the consequences of the night would be, she still didn't want to leave until Tara fell asleep. They made small talk about the less dramatic things that Tara had missed the past few days until she got too tired. Rosita assured Maggie and Glenn that she'd stay close overnight in case Tara needed anything, and they left.

Stepping outside, Maggie put her arm around her injured husband's waist but he denied help, "I'm fine, sweetie, really," Obediently, she took her arm away, only for him to rethink his quick dismissal, take her arm, and put it back where it was, "Okay, maybe a little help would be nice," he smiled mischievously.

She returned his smile weakly, her thoughts still on the earlier events of the night, and the things they would undoubtedly have to deal with in the coming days.

Noticing her expression, Glenn's own smile faded as he said, "I know things got more…complicated today, but we'll get through it. We always do." And exhaustion was the only way she could explain the next words that tumbled accidentally out of his mouth, "and Nicholas won't be a problem again."

Confused, Maggie came to a stop more abruptly than she meant to; Glenn nearly pitched forward before she steadied him. She looked at him for an explanation.

Realizing his mistake, Glenn's eyes darted away guiltily and she could see him trying to come up with an excuse or a way out. But it was too late, Maggie had already put together what he meant. Quietly, she asked for confirmation, "It wasn't a ricochet bullet."

To his credit, Glenn didn't try to backtrack. Instead, he looked her in the eye and said, "Yes. Maggie, yes, okay?" He started to explain what really happened that night but she grew impatient with his lack of anger towards a guy who tried to kill him. He didn't get very far before she found herself unable to stay to hear the rest. Maggie broke off from Glenn and started to head in the direction of Nicholas's house, only for Glenn to pull her back, saying, "Please, Maggie, don't. Nicholas, he's a coward and a liar but he's not stupid, okay? He won't try anything like that again, I'll make sure of it. But I'm giving him another chance, I think it's the right thing to do."

Reluctant to let her anger abate, she remarked, "God, Glenn, can't you take the low road just once?" Although her instincts were screaming at her not to let Nicholas get away as easily as Glenn wanted to let him, she recognized that it wasn't her call. She didn't voice her acquiescence, but rather resumed walking in the direction of home, and Glenn followed.

They walked in tense silence until Glenn stopped them as they approached their house; he looked her in the eyes and said, "Look, this should go without saying but…if he really does scares you, if it'd make you feel safer – I'd kill him in a second. You know that, right?"

At a loss for words, she just nodded and then bit her lip, suddenly and inexplicably guilt-ridden for what she'd been keeping from him the past couple of weeks.

Glenn's love for her was so steady that she'd gotten comfortably used to it over the years, but when he said things like that to her, it was hard not to be overwhelmed. He was ready to do anything for her, even put aside his moral code to make her feel safe. And for weeks she'd been keeping something huge – a pregnancy – from him. What all her excuses and fears failed to account for was the undeniable truth that they were partners; they were supposed to depend on each other for everything.

They've walked into fire for each other and they'll have to again someday. Maggie hadn't told Glenn about the baby yet because of that ever-looming someday, she thought acknowledging it might make it come sooner. But they had faced every challenge so far as a team, and they should face this one (especially this one) the same way.

No matter how he took the news, even if knowing made him worried or upset – he'd want to know.

"I'm sorry I lied," he said, and she snapped back to the present, "I shouldn't have, I just didn't want you to worry. But we tell each other everything, I just wanted to –"

"IthinkI'mpregnant," she interrupted him, unable to wait for him to finish his sentence, suddenly so desperate to get the truth out into the open, for him to know.

So desperate, that the words come out in an incomprehensible jumble, though she only realized that at Glenn's confused look and his request, "Come again?"

"I think I might be pregnant."

She knew he heard her that time by the way his eyebrows practically lifted up to his hairline, and how he had to catch himself on the porch railing, practically knocked over by the idea. Or by sheer exhaustion. Even though she knew she couldn't put off telling him any longer, she futilely wished he was at least well-rested enough to deal with the news without practically fainting.

Recovering himself, Glenn managed to say, "You should've warned me to sit down for that one." She kissed his cheek as she put her arm back around his waist, where it was when they walked home. She led him to sit down on the steps of their house and they were both silent for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse as he asked, "When did you find out?"

She didn't want to lie, not so soon after finally telling him the truth. But she couldn't bring herself to tell him that she'd known for weeks now. On some level, she still didn't want to admit to herself that she was sure. And so the fib came easily: "I haven't. Not yet. I mean – I'm not completely sure. I haven't taken a test yet anyway. Until I take the test, it's just an idea. But it came to me when – when Rosita asked for a tampon the other day and I realized I hadn't used one for a while. God, not since after the last time we thought I might be pregnant."

Because he was her husband, he saw through her fibs as easily as she told them, "Maggie. When did you find out?"

Maggie looked him in the eye and admitted, "I thought maybe when we were on the way to Washington," his face went stormy for a moment and she worried for a second that he was angry at how long she kept it from him before she realized that he was remembering the bus crash, remembering everything that happened lately but thinking of it in a different light. "It was the first time I was really able to sit and think about everything since Terminus. It wasn't even like I was having any symptoms yet – it was too early for that, I guess. But still, it occurred to me that my period was a little late and with what happened that night in the tunnel – well, I'd be stupid not to think about it.

"It was a nice thought back then. Back when we thought Eugene had the cure, I liked thinking about the future, how by the time it was born, the world might've been an okay place again. Of course, he didn't have the cure and that was disappointing and things got so crazy after that and then –" her voice failed her.

Glenn finished for her, so she wouldn't have to, "And then Beth."

She gave him a grateful look, hoping he knew how much it meant to her, to have someone who understood. She continued, "After that, well, it was hard to think of anything else. And when I could, everything seemed so stupid and – and hopeless that I hated myself for ever thinking otherwise. Soon I stopped thinkin' like that, but even then I ignored it – the nausea, the late period, and God, I was tired. I thought it was just the last few weeks catching up to me. You know, sometimes the adrenaline carries you through until suddenly it runs out and you just wanna sleep forever. But then my breasts started to ache like someone'd dropped an anvil on 'em and I knew that wasn't it."

She swore she saw Glenn blush at that and laughed because her husband was still such a sweetheart.

"That's a – uh – that's a thing?" He looked down at her boobs for a moment like he was confirming they were still there.

"You've got a lot to learn, don't you?"

He nudged her where she was pressed against his side, saying, "Hey, you knew way longer than I did, I've got some catchin' up to do."

She took it more seriously than he meant it, still feeling residual guilt for keeping it a secret for so long. Maggie realized what she hadn't said yet, "I'm really, really sorry I kept it secret for so long."

Knowing how serious she was from the tremor in her voice and the imploring look she gave him, he tried to reassure her, "There isn't anything to be sorry about. But Mags, you gotta know you can tell me anything. Especially if it's hard or scary, like this.

"That's what we've got each other for: the scary stuff."

They didn't stay outside longer than that because they could hear their friends inside the house and knew they wouldn't go longer without interruptions. It had been a horrible night, and Maggie and Glenn knew the others would be worried if they didn't go in soon.

So they fulfilled their obligations and went inside, staying to debrief with the others in the living room for a few minutes. Maggie could tell Glenn was still a little dazed, so she provided the vague, sweetened version of what went down in the woods with Nicholas. They could decide together later if they wanted the others to know the truth, but it wasn't a good idea to tell them and possible start something that second.

No, they were long past ready to go to bed and shut out the rest of the world for a while. So that's exactly what they did. They changed and washed up and brushed their teeth in a wonderfully domestic way before lying down in bed together. Maggie hadn't even fully laid down before he was moving towards her, gently maneuvering her body until she was spooned against him. She thought maybe he needed the comfort of holding her, more than see her, at that moment.

She tried to think of ways of comforting him. The obvious way seemed like a cop-out – even if it would make them both feel better, they'd never been the type of couple who'd had sex when words were too hard. They fought through whatever was keeping them from communicating and then had celebratory sex when they reached the other side.

Maggie started talking without knowing what she was saying, or if it would help, "Did I ever tell you that Beth used to pester me about havin' babies?" She didn't wait for him to answer; the memories of a happier time had been bottled up for so long that they wouldn't stay in any longer, "It's a younger sibling thing, she'd tell me. She never got to play with babies when she was little 'cause she was the baby. I used to talk big about movin' away from Georgia, maybe goin' to California, or New York City, just someplace different. And she'd say, well that's fine by me so long as you come back home when you've got a little niece or nephew for me to play with," she let out a laugh that sounded more like a sob, and relaxed when Glenn moved his fingers through her hair.

His ministrations calmed her for a moment but she lost patience with their position, needing to see his face. Keeping in mind his need to hold her, Maggie shifted in his arms so she was lying just as close to him, only facing him. Though she was practically going cross-eyed, she was able to see his face when he opened his mouth and then closed it, shaking his head and smiling. Maggie looked at him curiously, and he gave up what made him laugh, "I was just thinking. Beth used to pester you, while Hershel would do the same to me. Not outright, just little comments here and there. Like 'oh, if you ever have a daughter someday' or 'when you become a father, you'll know this.' God, there was even one time when I was holding Judith and he told me it was good 'practice.'"

Picturing Glenn's reactions to her father's badgering made her laugh. It was the first time since he died that it didn't hurt to think about him. "I had no idea. Oh man, they were probably scheming and placing bets. Like, if he knocks her up before winter, I'll do your laundry for a week," she suggested.

Glenn said, "Or maybe they took it even further: if it's a boy I'll take your perimeter checks for a month," with that they both grimaced at the memory of those boring perimeter checks. Maggie missed a lot of things about the prison, but no way in hell did she long for those.

She felt lighter than she had in weeks, joking with Glenn. Still, she could tell he was ready to talk more seriously about the pregnancy, but she wasn't yet, despite her having known about the pregnancy for longer than him. Flustered, she said, "It'd be nice if the baby was a girl, so she could use all Judith's hand-me-downs, you know, pink onesies and that purple pack-n-play of hers. Judith'll probably have grown out of that stuff by the time the baby's born."

The second she said it, she knew how ridiculous it is. Glenn and Maggie would be lucky if the only thing they were worried about in eight months' time was their son wearing girly onesies.

Still, he let her cling to the pointless fear. "You're right," he said with a twinkle in his eyes, but when he kept talking she knew the shock had worn off and he was ready to get down to business. Despite her own hesitance to do so, a big part of her was relieved that Glenn was being, well, Glenn.

"We should try to find a pregnancy test," she opens her mouth to protest but he keeps going, "I know – I know you're sure and I believe you, but we should know, you know, for sure for sure before we do anything else. Plus," and his eyes darted away, embarrassed, "I think it'd be a nice thing to have, you know, down the road.

"We should probably tell everyone all at once, and soon, if we want their help - our family, I mean, not Deanna and her people, our people should know first. I – I don't know how they'll react. I mean, it's not like Rick can be mad, right? It'd be ridiculous if he was, considering. From now on, every run I go on, I'll try to find diapers, formula, whatever else we'll need. I don't wanna put the cart before the horse but it'd be smart to get stuff now so that I can be with you as you get farther along. Now, as far as medical stuff goes, we'll probably have to –"

She fell asleep in his arms, to the comforting and familiar sound of Glenn planning the shit out of things.

She hadn't been so at peace in weeks.

Thanks for reading. Let me know in the comments that you made it this far, and keep an eye out for a companion piece from Glenn's point of view. Also, follow me on tumblr for updates on the process at rosy-doze DOT tumblr DOT com