Through a haze of alcohol, Daryl stared at the bottle of Jack on the tower wall for a few seconds before he realized his brother was flying down the stairs of the tower. Where the fuck was he- OH FUCK!

"Merle!" the younger Dixon yelled, racing to the stairs. Merle was already on a dead run for the cell block. "Oh fuck!"

"Grimes! I'm gonna cut your fuckin' dick off!"

Amanda shot straight up in her bunk at the sound of her father's angry shout. Oh God, now what? She ran out into the common area to see her daddy throw himself at Rick. She screamed, "Daddy! Stop!"

"Ya fuckin' son of a bitch!" Merle Dixon threw a punch that snapped Rick's head back but the man didn't go down. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill ya, ya bastard!"

Carl shouted, "Dad!" and ran towards his father. Oscar grabbed him by the back of the neck almost lifting the struggling boy off of his feet. "Let me go! He's gonna kill my dad!" Carl demanded frantically and pulled out his gun but the big man was faster and snatched it from his shaking hands before the kid could take aim. He tucked it in the back of his pants and kept a firm grip the boy.

Rick dodged the next wild swing from the older man as if his life depended on it, which it did by the sound of the other man's fury. He had no clue as to why Merle was so enraged. He swung his own fist connecting sharply with Dixon's jaw.

Daryl skidded to a halt right before he crashed into the brawl. "Fuck, Merle!" he yelled. "Goddamn it! Cut it out!" Daryl tried to grab his brother but got knocked on his ass for his efforts. He quickly jumped back to his feet and he and Martinez were able to drag a screaming, cussing, kicking, and swinging Merle away from Grimes.

Rick lunged at Dixon but the much bigger ex-con, Oscar, let go of Carl and tackled the ex-cop from behind.

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill ya, Grimes!" Merle screamed, trying to work his way free from the two younger men that were struggling to hold him. "Let me go, ya fuckin' assholes!"

"Shut the fuck up, asshole!" Daryl shouted over his out-of-control brother. "Rick ain't the daddy!"

Merle and Rick both stopped struggling and stared at the younger Dixon. Merle spoke first, "What'd you say, boy?"

"He ain't the daddy." Daryl let go of his brother.

The heavy breathing of both combatants was the only sound in the cell block.

Amanda looked around the room. No one moved. It was like a stop-action film, a photograph that captured a tiny moment in time. Slowly, the subjects began to stir.

Her daddy stared at her, confused. His first thought had been that the motherfucker dumped her because he had knocked her up. But if Grimes wasn't the baby daddy, who the hell was? He stared hard at his daughter, trying to make the pieces fit. The only name that came to mind...Oh fuck no! Merle felt his knees give a little, an overwhelming uneasiness filling his stomach, and a pounding in his head. Crowley. His shoulders slumped in defeat. Rowan hobbled from the doorway to stand next to him. She slipped her hand in his.

Oscar stood and backed away allowing Rick to sit up. Carl ran to his father's side and threw his arms around him. "I'm okay, son," Rick assured his boy, patting his back. He rose to his feet a bit unsteadily and made his way to the table to sit down. Amanda looked so hurt and alone right now and that was just as much his fault as anyone else's.

Daryl wouldn't meet her eyes. Amanda didn't know if she was more hurt or more angry because her uncle had betrayed her confidence. She walked over to him and looked up forcing him to meet her gaze. "I'm sorry, Possum," he mumbled.

She clenched and unclenched her fists. She wanted to hit him but…she didn't have the energy. "I should have been the one to tell Daddy," she said quietly, her voice full of pain, and with tears in her eyes she slowly turned away and headed out of the cell block.

She paused to touch her daddy's shoulder. "I'm sorry that you had to find out like this." Her voice cracked.

As she started to leave, he reached for her. "Why didn't you tell me, Ladybug?" The fight had gone out of him and he sounded weary.

"I didn't want you to blame yourself," she said simply.

Rowan sat on the side of the bunk by Merle with her arm around his shoulders. His head was down resting in his hand. His right arm was on her thigh. "It's my fuckin' fault," he said over and over again. "I should have protected her better."

She gently removed the prosthesis from his right arm and set it to the side. Rowan unrolled the soft strips of fabric that she had wrapped around the tender flesh of his stump for protection. He winced but didn't pull away or say anything. She slipped his shirt off of his shoulders, leaving only the black wife beater on. "Stay in here with me tonight," she whispered softly in his ear.

Rowan pressed her lips to the side of his bruised face and dipped down to kiss his mouth. He was trembling beneath her hands and she was afraid he would break at any moment. It was taking all the strength he had not to fall apart. She knelt on the floor and took off his boots and socks. She unbuckled his belt and helped him slide out of his pants.

She gently pressed him back on the mattress and crawled beside him, pulling the light blanket over them both.

Hershel watched his youngest daughter be enveloped in the younger Dixon's arms. For a man who kept his emotions well hidden, pain and regret was clearly evident on Daryl's face. Beth put her arms around his waist and he kissed the top of her head. He whispered something to her and she smiled sadly up at him. He leaned down and gave her a tender kiss.

Hershel sighed. He realized then he'd already lost his baby girl to another man. Nothing he could do or say would change things.

"Who's on watch?" Rick asked to no one in particular. Merle had been but he knew the man wouldn't be going back tonight.

"I'll do it," Oscar volunteered. "Don't think I'm gonna get much sleep, anyway."

"Me either," Carol said. "I'll join you."

"Thanks." Rick nodded. "I need to check on Judith. I thought I heard her fussing."

"Dad, I'll get her," Carl offered.

"Thanks, son, I'll grab her bottle and meet you there," the older Grimes said, rising and putting a hand on his son's shoulder.

Amanda was at a loss. Her daddy was crushed. Daryl was no longer a trusted confidante. Rick was…lost. She wandered the corridors of the prison with a flashlight and a baseball bat, trying to figure out how thing got to be such a mess. Not that it mattered. It couldn't be changed. There was no going back. Going forward wasn't very promising either. She had never felt so alone in her life.

She wanted her momma. Rachel Landry would understand, if she was still alive, which Amanda doubted very much. She would listen and tell her everything would be okay and then they would eat something sinfully sweet and chocolate-covered. She and her mother would shop at all the malls and buy some ridiculously expensive new shoes or get their nails done. She missed her momma so much.

Amanda fought back the tears. She was so damn tired of crying. She was so fucking tired of struggling just to survive. And for what? There was nothing to show for it…except being alive…not being one of the walking dead. Was it really worth it?

She wanted to give up, to lay down and die. Maybe she wasn't a Dixon after all. She slid down the wall with her back against the cold rough surface and pulled her knees to her chest. She wondered if this was the corridor that was just around the corner from the infirmary where she and Rick made love for the first time. The only time.

"Amanda?"

She lifted her head to see the dark outline of a man in the dimly lit hallway. Caesar, she knew by the stupid ball cap he always wore backward. "How'd you find me?"

"Luck." He stretched out a hand. "Let me walk you back, baby. You shouldn't be here by yourself."

"I'm fine," she said and patted the baseball bat beside her. "Most of the walkers have been cleared out." Amanda crossed her arms over her knees and put her head down. "Besides, I don't want to face any one right now."

Martinez knelt before her, laying a hands on her arms. "You haven't done anything wrong."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I just can't."

"Okay," he said, moving around to sit beside her. He was worried and not about to leave her alone in her current emotional state. The look on her face when she left the cell block told him that she was hurting too much to care about her own safety at the moment. If she wasn't going to watch out for herself, he would.

"I guess it wouldn't do me any good to tell you to go away?" she asked without looking up.

"I'll go as far as the end of the hall but I can't in good conscience let you get out of my sight in here. You're upset and it's not that safe, sweetheart."

"Don't get mad if I pretend you aren't here," Amanda muttered.

He chuckled, "I'll try not to." Martinez turned his hat around and pulled the bill down over his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. He stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles. His hands were folded in his lap.

Now she couldn't think anymore, not with him sitting beside her with his shoulder just barely touching hers. He wasn't talking or even moving but his presence was disconcerting. His breathing was slow and even. Could he already be asleep? She wondered if he'd notice if she left. Silently as possible, Amanda inched away from her self-appointed guardian.

"Where you going?"

Amanda slumped back down to the ground with an irritated huff. "Damn it. I thought you were asleep."

"Just resting," he said, lifting his hat to look at her. "You were going to leave me here, supposedly asleep, at the mercy of a stray biter?"

"Sorry, Caesar. I didn't think it through." She craned her neck back resting the top of her head against the cold cement behind her, her eyes focused on the dark ceiling. "I just wanted to see if I could slip away undetected."

He just laughed at her. "Well, you sure as hell can't sneak away when I'm still awake."

"And perfectly capable of handling any walker that comes your way so don't try to lay a guilt trip on me." Then Amanda's voice changed to a more serious tone. "What do I do now, Caesar?"

"About what, baby?" He turned his head to catch her eyes but her gaze was focused on the wall directly across from them.

"Everything," she sighed. "Daddy…"

"Honey, there's nothing to do. Your daddy is a grown man. He just needs to process the information and I bet he'll come around soon." He squeezed her hand.

A tear slid down her cheek. "It's so hard."

He put his arm across her shoulders. "You don't have to do it alone."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "I am so mad at him."

"Rick? Or Daryl?"

That was a fair question. "I was talking about Rick, but I'm mad at him, too." She wiped her face with a small sigh. "I don't understand why Rick is running away from me. He kept saying how much none of it mattered until I told him that I might be pregnant. Then he shut down completely. He won't even look at me."

"Maybe he has some stuff to work out," Caesar suggested.

"Well, I have stuff to work out too," Amanda retorted.

"I know you do." He squeezed her shoulders. "Go talk to him, confront him and make him talk to you."

"What if I don't like what he says?" Her voice quivered at the thought.

Caesar shrugged. "Well at least you will know."

"What?" Her voice turned hard. "That he thinks I'm a used up piece of trash?"

"Amanda," he chided. "He doesn't think that."

"And you know this how?" Because some days that was exactly how she felt so why wouldn't Rick think the same? Amanda couldn't help feeling that way. She had scars both inside and out and she was pretty sure they would never go away.

"Just talk to the man." He pulled his hat down again and crossed his arms over his chest.

That was it? If that was all the advice he had, it stunk. "What are you doing?"

Caesar recrossed his ankles. "Resting and giving you some privacy so you can go back to thinking too much."

"Privacy?" She snorted and shoved his rock hard shoulder. "There is no privacy in this prison."

"I know a place you can go to get away from the others and still be safe."

Amanda lifted her head and raised a brow. "Where?" she asked, skeptically.

Putting his hat on right, he stood up and brushed off the seat of his pants. "I'll show you."

She sighed heavily and took his hand letting him pull her up with him and into an embrace. She buried her head in his chest and bit back a sob. Dixons don't cry…so she shuddered with the effort of holding the tears back and he squeezed her tighter. "It's gonna be okay, Amanda."

Daryl had to get out of the cell block. Now. He wanted more space and more oxygen. He swung the door open wide and inhaled the fresh night air. He also wanted the more of that Jack.

"Daryl?"

Fuck, he almost forgot about Beth in his need to get out of the prison. "Sorry, darlin'. Couldn't breathe in there."

He grabbed her hand and pulled her along the guard tower. "Gotta get something. Wait here. I'll be right back." He kissed her quickly then climbed the steps. Beth leaned against one of the tower supports and watched him head up.

"Hey, man," Oscar greeted him. "Everything alright?"

Carol gave a little two-finger wave and smiled. "Helloooo, Daryl Dixon."

What the hell? Daryl looked at her like she had two heads. "Yeah," he turned back to the ex-con, "Ya'll didn't happen to see a bottle of whiskey up here, did ya?"

Carol burst into giggles and held up the bottle. "Is this the one you 'lost'?" she asked twirling it around in her hand. It flew out of her tenuous grip and the big man snagged it right before it hit the ground. "Oopsy daisy." She covered her mouth with both hands.

Good thing Oscar was quick. Whiskey was getting hard to come by these days. Daryl reached for it and the other man tossed it to him. Shit! "Careful!" Dixon warned as he caught it…the bottle was empty!

Unfuckingbelievable! "You drank all my whiskey?" Daryl asked, incredulously.

Oscar wouldn't meet the redneck's glare. "Don't look at me, man. I'm on watch."

"It was just sitting on the wall. Abandoned. All alone," Carol said in a sing-song voice and giggled again. "We thought you were through with it."

Oscar snorted. "We?"

"Carol?" No way. Daryl looked at the woman in utter surprise.

She gave him a little peck on the cheek. "Sorry, Daryl." Then the drunken woman burst into laughter once more and admitted, "Not really that sorry. It was good."

"Damn. Crazy ass woman," Daryl muttered and shook his head on the way down the stairs.

Cell Block B? He brought her to Cell Block B? "Really, Caesar?" Amanda thought it would be at least another week of work before it was livable.

"Have some faith," Martinez said, going in before her for a quick safety check. "Look around."

She shone her flashlight into the cells, the freshly cleaned cells. There were pillows, sheets and blankets on all the bunks.

"Wow, when did ya'll do this?" she asked in amazement, stepping into one of the tiny "rooms" to have a closer look.

"We've been working on it a little every day. Your dad is in a hurry to move in." That was an understatement. Dixon wanted to be away from Grimes in the worst way and didn't bother hiding the fact. Caesar watched as Amanda walked the length of the cellblock, lightly dragging her fingers across the bars.

"Why didn't anyone ask me to help?" she wondered out loud.

"You were doing other things," Caesar answered. "Beth took care of the bedding. I think Carl helped her bring it over from the laundry."

"Which cell is mine?" she asked walking back toward the smiling man.

"Take your pick, Amanda. You get first choice."

She smiled at him then poked him in the ribs. "They all look just the same to me. But, I'll take a closer look." She tested out each mattress until she finally settled on one at the end furthest from the door. "This one," she said. "I'll take it."

"It's all yours, sweetheart," he said, arms propped on either side of the door to the cell she picked out.

"Thank you, Caesar."

"My pleasure."

Rick lay wide awake in his bunk with his baby girl asleep in the crook of his arm. He listened to Carl's steady breathing from the top bunk.

The look on Mandy's face about did him in tonight. The pain. The betrayal. He practically watched her family fall apart before his eyes.

Where did she go? She left the cell block and he never heard her come back. He was listening. He heard Daryl talking to Beth and it sounded like they left together.

Rick wondered if Mandy was alone. He hoped not. She shouldn't be, not at a time like this. He should be with her but he screwed up royally and he didn't know if she would ever forgive him. He really should check on her…make sure she's okay…Shit. Rick sat up carefully so as not to wake his daughter. He gently picked up Judith and put her in her crib and waited until she settled back into sleep. He had to find Mandy.

Amanda woke with a jolt in total darkness in an unfamiliar cell with unfamiliar arms around her.

"I got you," said a sleepy voice, arms pulling her closer to a warm hard chest. Caesar kissed her forehead. "Go back to sleep, baby."

She settled back against him. She didn't mean to fall asleep with Caesar but when she stretched out on the bunk she didn't want to be alone. She patted the space beside her and he sat down without a word and removed his boots. He lay on top of the covers as she did and turned on his side to face her. Pulling her into his arms, he held her until she drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

Merle lay awake in a cell on the bunk with Rowan's back against his chest. His left hand rested on her hip. His right arm was bent under his head. There was no way he could fix things for Amanda but he could make it safe for the rest of them. He would kill every last motherfucker in Woodbury. He just hadn't decided if he was going to kill that snake they called the Governor first or last.

He wanted the man to watch the total annihilation of the town they built but he was a slippery bastard and Merle wouldn't take a chance of letting him get away. The old Merle would love to watch the man suffer a long slow death, but this Merle, the man he was right now, was going to be a daddy for the second time…and a granddaddy for the first and there was no fuckin' way in hell he was going let any harm ever come to his kin again.

Daryl was disappointed that his whiskey was gone but he guessed it was for the best since that's what got him into trouble in the first place. He retrieved his sleeping bag and poncho from the perch and told Beth to grab some pillows. "We're sleeping under the stars tonight."

She met him at the cell block door with her arms fully loaded.

"Holy shit, darlin'. I said some pillows, not everythin' ya own." Why the fuck did women need so much stuff? That was something he would never understand.

"Hush," she scolded. "I just brought a few things I thought we might need. I have water and crackers, an extra blanket, a…"

A few things? He could fuckin' camp out for a week with less than the amount of shit she brought. He cut her off, "We're just goin' to the courtyard, sweetheart." But he took some of her "supplies" since she could barely see over them and steered her out the door by the elbow.

When they reached their destination, Daryl unzipped his sleeping bag, spread it on the grass, and got out of the way as Beth went to work. She fluffed the pillows, lay the extra blankets on top and put a bottle of water on each side of the bed. She placed her backpack at the "head" of the makeshift bed and pulled the covers back, climbing in first.

Daryl laid his crossbow on the ground within easy reach then made himself comfortable, laying down on the "bed" she had made for them. He crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at the stars. She lay down and curled against his side. The nights hadn't started cooling down yet so it was really too warm for the extra blankets. He put his arm around her.

The night sky was full of stars with no other light to dim their brilliance. It reminded Daryl of camping out when he was younger. He used to pretend there was no one else left in the world and he like it that way. "When I was a kid," he started softy, "sometimes I'd sleep outside to hide from my ol' man when he was drunk."

Beth slipped her hand inside his shirt and rested it on his stomach, fingers idly playing in the sparse hair of his abdomen. He never talked about his father before. Her heart broke at the words he spoke.

"He used to beat the shit outta Merle so when he left, Daddy'd beat the shit outta me." His voice was distant and unemotional. "I'd look up at the stars and pretend I was anywhere else but the shithole I lived in." He rarely thought of his ol' man any more. Wasn't sure why he was telling her about him now. He stroked her smooth shoulder and ran his fingers absently through her pale hair. Maybe he wanted Beth to know where he came from. To know just how ugly his life had been…

Caesar woke up just before dawn and Amanda was still in his arms. It felt so right. What the fuck did he have to do for this to happen every day? He brushed wild curls from her face. Her lips were slightly parted. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do a whole lot more but he was willing to wait.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she began to wake; she stretched lazily in his arms and then snuggled back into his chest. He kissed the top of her head, "Sleep well, baby?"

She nodded, dark curls tumbling into her face again. She shook her head tossing them back. She smiled up at him. He cupped her face with his hand and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

Amanda placed her hand flat against his chest, smoothing out the wrinkles in his t-shirt. She had a troubled look on her face already. "What if the baby looks like him?"

"What if it doesn't?" Martinez tried to ease her worries. "What if it looks like you?"

"What if I can't love it?" Her voice quivered at the thought. This wasn't the first time she worried about that.

He pulled her tighter against him. "Baby, don't worry about those things now. You aren't even sure if you're pregnant."

"Caesar, I haven't had a period for three months."

"I told you before. You won't be alone." He hugged her. "I'll take care of you."

"You don't…"

"I want to," he insisted, his dark eyes seeking out her blue ones.

She wiped the tears away. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed and slipped her feet into her shoes. She was as ready as she'd ever be to face the group.

He ran a finger along the pale flesh of her back that showed between her shirt and the waistband of her shorts and then pulled the hem down to cover her skin. She tensed at his touch but only for a moment. Then she smiled at him and asked, "Think there'll be any breakfast ready with you in here?"

He laughed at sat up beside her and pulled his own boots on. "I guess we'll find out."

Thanks to my new followers, reviewers and guests...and especially to the reviewers who have been there since the beginning of this story! Your kind words and encouragement keep this tale going.

As always thanks to my proofreader, hand-holder, editor, Siarh who keeps me true and in line when I accidently wander of the path or forget what I wrote in a previous chapter. It's a full time job.