Shit. Rick Grimes knew he saw something move in the trees and it wasn't shadows or lightning. To be on the safe side, he needed to account for everyone. Oscar was in the guard tower so he informed him of his suspicions before heading inside the prison.

Judith sat at the head of the table being fed by Amanda who quickly averted her gaze when Rick's eyes met hers. Maggie and Glenn were at the far end of the breakfast table talking with Hershel. He saw Beth disappear into the kitchen and he recognized the soft murmur of Carol's voice greeting her. Rowan laughed at something the young blonde said.

Rick didn't see his son. Damn it. Stay calm, Grimes. Carl could handle himself but he'd feel better knowing that his boy was somewhere within the prison walls.

"Good morning, Rick," Hershel greeted him. "Is something wrong?"

"Morning. Does anyone know where Carl is?" he asked, scanning the faces at the table.

Glenn shook his head. "He ate breakfast and left about twenty minutes ago. Didn't say where he was going." Unfortunately, that was all too often the case; the younger Grimes felt he was old enough not to have to inform anyone of his whereabouts or intentions.

Seeing her father, the little princess squealed in delight, slapping her hands on the high chair tray. "Dada!" She bounced in her seat.

Rick walked to the end of the table and ruffled his daughter's fine black hair and followed up with a kiss. "Hey there, Punkin," he smiled. She smiled back proudly showing off her four teeth. He turned to Amanda, who was currently wiping spattered oatmeal from her face and hands. "Mandy, where's Caesar?"

"Sleeping." She eyed him warily. "What's wrong, Rick?"

He sighed. He didn't want to scare them but he knew the tension was coming off of him in waves. "Not sure," he answered, running his fingers through his hair. "I thought I saw something in the trees. We need to check it out."

Glenn and Maggie stood up together. "What do you want us to do?" the older Greene sister asked.

The ex-cop turned to the couple and said, "Maggie, get Martinez. Glenn, come with me. We'll get some extra weapons."

"I can get Caesar," Amanda said.

"That's okay, Mandy, I need you to stay here with Judith. I just wanna be on guard and make sure everyone is accounted for. Hershel, don't let anyone leave this area until we can check it out."

Before long, Martinez came into the dining area with Maggie. His eyes immediately found Amanda's. "Maggie said Rick saw something outside."

She nodded. "He and Glenn went to get more weapons." Maggie immediately headed out.

"CeCe!" Judith greeted him, slapping her tray once more.

"Morning, Princess," he smiled at the toddler, absently patting her head. He gave Amanda a quick kiss on the lips and headed to the makeshift armory.

"Be safe," she called after him. Amanda wiped the oatmeal from her arms again and looked down the table to see Hershel watching her with a curious look. Here we go, she thought. That's all I need is someone else to put their two cents worth in.

The older gentlemen just smiled and raised his cup to her before taking a sip. "He's a good man, Amanda."

"But? There's always a 'but'," She waited for him to continue, no doubt with sage advice about true love, patience and blah, blah, blah. She heard it all before.

He shook his head and took another sip of hot tea. "There's no 'but', Amanda. He's a good man, hardworking, loyal, polite, and a Christian." He sat his cup down and pondered his next words carefully before continuing. "If I had to choose, I would have picked him for my Bethie, not your uncle. But then, it wasn't my choice to make."

"Hershel, he's not that bad," she defended her uncle. He was hardworking and loyal but she was positive that polite was a word that had never been used to describe Daryl Dixon. Also, she had no memories of him ever setting foot in a church to pray before or picking up the Bible.

He chuckled, "Don't get me wrong. He's rough around the edges but I like Daryl. He's also a good man and Beth seems happy with him. But he's old enough to be her father, though he's nowhere near my age. I was just trying to say that Caesar will take care of you."

"Thank you, Hershel." He was the first person, besides her daddy, that didn't say she belonged with Rick; no one else seemed to take into the account the fact that Rick dumped her, not the other way around. All because Ranger Rick insisted on being a martyr. Asshole.

A light rain had begun to fall, decreasing visibility from the prison considerably. Martinez volunteered to check out the wooded area where Rick saw movement. Going out there was the only way they would be able to see anything. Maggie and Glenn were patrolling the fence line heading north and Rick would cover the southern portion of the perimeter after he delivered the weapons for Hershel to distribute among remaining members of the group.

A woman's scream ripped through the air. Rick threw the bag over his shoulder, drew his gun and ran in the direction of the sound. He skidded to a stop as he entered the dining area. His heart constricted when he saw Amanda unconscious on the floor with Hershel and Carol kneeling by her head. Beth stood just behind them, hands covering her mouth. Rowan held a teary-eyed Judith in her arms.

Rick dropped the bag of weapons and ran to Amanda's side. "What happened?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm although his heart pounded loudly in his chest.

Hershel held pressure on the young woman's forehead; blood seeped out between his fingers. "She stood up to take Judith out of the chair and passed out. Must have hit her head on the table."

Shit. He wasn't sure what to do. "We need to get her off the cold floor."

"I think we should take her to the infirmary," Hershel advised. "Carol and I have cleaned it and it's ready for use."

Rick nodded, lifted her thin form carefully and cradled her in his arms while Carol kept pressure on her forehead.

"C'mon," he called to the other women. "I want ya'll to stick together. Beth, grab the guns."

The young woman picked up the heavy bag with two hands and followed Rick and Carol while Rowan carried Judith and Hershel brought up the rear.

Rick settled Amanda on the stretcher in the exam room. Carol grabbed a towel and some saline from the cabinet to clean up the blood from the injured woman's head.

"It's not deep," Hershel announced, after taking a closer look. "I think we can get by with some steri-strips."

Rick sighed with relief but that didn't answer his main concern. Why the hell did she pass out in the first place?

Amanda rolled her head to the side with a groan as she struggled to get up.

"Slow down there, honey," Rick said, gently pushing her shoulders back down. "Take it easy. You hit your head." Her hand flew to the wound but he captured it first. "Got a nasty cut, Mandy. Let Hershel clean it up."

"What happened?" she asked pulling her hand away from his and letting it fall to the stretcher. Her head was throbbing.

Rick sat back in the chair by the stretcher. "Apparently, you fainted."

"Bullshit," she scoffed. "Dixons don't faint."

He met her defiant gaze. "Pregnant ones who don't eat do."

"I was getting around to it." She hated the way Rick was looking at her right now. Concern, pity, whatever it was, she didn't want to see it so she turned her head away from him.

"Hold still," Hershel demanded.

"Sorry," Amanda mumbled and let the old man turn her head back where he needed it. She tried not to flinch as applied the strips.

"Mandy," Rick leaned over the bed. "Listen to me," he said firmly. "You can't keep doing this."

"Doing what? I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Grimes." Amanda tried turned away again but Hershel held her head securely in place.

"Trying to kill yourself," he spoke softly so no one else but Hershel could hear.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Rick," she retorted, closing her eyes refusing to meet his gaze. She wasn't trying to kill herself.

"Why else wouldn't you eat or drink unless you're trying to kill yourself…or the baby."

She wasn't trying to kill herself. Was she? Amanda burst into tears. "I'm not," she said, but the conviction wasn't there. She wasn't doing it intentionally but was she doing it subconsciously?

Rick continued, unconvinced by her weak denial. "Mandy, you can't do this. We need you. Too many people here love you. It would kill your daddy if anything happened to you."

"I'm sorry." Her voice was small and scared. "I don't mean too…" Not really. Do I? She hadn't thought about her dad, her uncle, Caesar or anyone else. Only herself. Rick's voice cut through her self-pity.

He took her hand in both of his and wouldn't let her pull it free. "Honey, it doesn't matter what you mean to do, if you don't take care of yourself, you won't survive this and there's not a damn thing anyone can do to help you." he added, with a finality that hit home. "You will leave a hole in this group, in this family, that can't be filled."

Amanda didn't want to hear anymore. Rick could read her better than anyone, including herself. Perhaps she was just hoping to fade away, disappear into nothingness, and leave all the ugliness behind. That was what she really wanted to do if she was honest; but that was giving up and Dixons didn't give up, damn it. Why did she have to be a Dixon? She closed her eyes and exhaled softly and nodded in understanding. Shit! That hurt. It felt like her brain was loose inside her skull.

Rick squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss before realizing what he was doing. He couldn't do that anymore…kiss her…even if it was only her hand. He let her hand fall from his to land on the stretcher. He patted it and stood up. "Good. Now, what can we do to help you?"

"The food makes me nauseous. I can't even choke it down," she admitted to him. That made it easier not to eat.

He supposed he could understand that. Lori had the same problem with both Carl and Judith early in her pregnancies. "What do you want? We'll try to find it."

"Ice cream," she said wistfully. "Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream covered in hot fudge sauce with three cherries on top. Oh, and don't forget the fresh whipped cream."

Rick smiled and pushed the matted hair back from her forehead. "Anything else? Perhaps something that doesn't require a freezer."

"Deep dish pizza with pepperoni and onions…and bell peppers and jalapenos…and the cheese is brown and crunchy around the edges?" Amanda closed her eyes trying to picture the delicious hot dish; her tongue swept across her lips as she tried to recapture the flavor in her mind. Damn, it had been too long and the memories had faded with time. When she opened her eyes, Rick was watching her with a half-smile.

He raised his eyebrows. "Next choice?"

"Pickles?"

"Pickles." He chuckled softly. "I can probably do that. Sweet, dill, or bread and butter?"

"Figures," Amanda commented dejectedly. "I don't really want them but I thought pregnant women were supposed to crave them…with ice cream."

"I'll take the pickles if you don't want them. Dill, please," Rowan chimed in hopefully.

Rick smiled at Rowan and then patted Amanda's shoulder. Looking at Hershel, he said, "If everything is under control here, I need to check the perimeter."

The old man nodded. "I think we're good. I found some IV fluids I want to give Amanda to get her rehydrated."

"Oh no," she started. "I don't need that. I promise I'll eat and drink better."

Carol hung the bag on the pole. "Hush. Amanda, and let us take care of you."

"I'm sure you can take very good care of me without needles," she said, scooting away from her friend.

"Mandy," Rick warned on his way out, "don't give 'em a hard time. They're just trying to help."

"Fine," she said petulantly. "You gonna hold my hand when one of them sticks me?"

"You want me to?" he asked with mock seriousness.

"Of course not!" She rolled her eyes at him. "That was sarcasm."

Rick just shook his head. "Alright then, I need to go out and check on things. Keep this door locked until I come back with the all clear."

The rain rolled off the bill of Caesar's cap as he entered the woods. He wiped the water from his eyes and looked around for tracks. He wasn't a great tracker but the older Dixon taught him enough. He may not be able to hunt for game but he could hunt for man and right now he was staring at a partial boot print. At least that was what he thought it was. He wished either one of the hunters were here right now. Fuck! He said to himself. Officer Rick's intuition was right. Someone had been here.

Martinez stood still, closed his eyes and listened. He couldn't hear a damn thing but the rain and wind. And the rain was picking up. The trees provided a little shelter from the stinging drops but not from the lightning, he thought wryly. Thankfully, the rain and mud severely hampered the mobility of the biters. That was one less thing he had to worry about. From what he could tell, the tracks stopped at the edge of trees, giving the 'intruder' a clear view of the prison. He looked around and didn't see anything else so he made his way deeper into the woods.

Rowan held the sleeping Judith on her shoulder while Beth sat on the stretcher with Amanda and braided the other woman's curly hair. "There," she said. "That should keep it out of your face." She had cleaned the blood out the best she could with a towel and some water. As long as they were stuck in the infirmary, there was nothing else they could do about it.

Deciding he needed to take a greater role in protecting the younger Dixon, Herschel informed her and Rowan he wanted to start giving them weekly checkups. He would check their weight gain and their blood pressure. He did this for Amanda mostly, but it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on Rowan too. Merle's girlfriend was happy to participate, which helped convince Amanda it was a good idea.

They were all so used to Hershel doctoring them they almost forgot that he was a veterinarian. No one in the group was particularly knowledgeable about birthing babies, human babies that is, and Carol was the only one that had given birth. He and Carol had studied a few medical books and gathered general knowledge. Since Maggie had actually delivered Judith, neither Hershel nor Carol had hands-on experience.

However, if everything went well, the female body would do all the work and a baby would be born without problems in spite of any inexperience on their part, but, they were all too aware that things don't always go as planned and Lori's death was always in the back of their minds, especially haunting the members of the group that knew her. As it turned out, neither Rowan nor Amanda knew Lori, so that could be to their advantage.

Carol paced the room restlessly. "I have too much to do to stay in here any longer." She put her hands on her hips and squared her shoulders. "Hershel, may I please have the key? I want to get lunch started."

"Now Carol," he said, using the tone he used with his daughters when he was trying to be patient, yet firm, "You heard what Rick said. We need to stay put until he comes back."

"I'm with Carol on this one, Hershel." Rowan said, gently rubbing the baby's back. "I'm ready to get this young lady to her crib and get to work on lunch, too. Besides, I'm really hungry."

"Who's hungry? You or little Merle?" Amanda teased.

"Funny, but the food has to go through me to get to him and his name is NOT going to be Merle," Rowan said decisively. She and Merle hadn't even discussed names. It was still early; they had plenty of time. Now that she thought about it, she should bring up the topic, just in case she needed to head off any ideas the older Dixon might have for undesirable names.

"Are you sure about that, Rowan? If it's a boy, I don't know how you're going to get around it. Daddy's pretty damned stubborn."

"What if it's a girl?" Beth asked.

"Oh I got that one, too." Amanda grinned and announced, "Merlina."

Rowan flipped her off when Hershel's back was turned causing both Amanda and Beth to giggle. "Not going to happen."

"Merle Jr. or Merlina." Even Hershel laughed at that. "Poor kid."

"C'mon, Hershel. Let me have the key," Carol pleaded. "I feel like these walls are closing in on me. We can move Judith's crib to the dining area and still all be locked in together."

The Greene patriarch sighed. The women outnumbered him, as usual, and he wouldn't put it past them to tackle him and take the keys if they really wanted to. Also, Hershel knew that Carol had claustrophobic tendencies and being cooped up in this stuffy room any longer would only exacerbate her condition. "Fine," he agreed. "But we need to make it quick." He looked around the room until he spotted what he wanted. "Bethie, get that wheelchair."

"Oh, hell no!" Amanda protested vehemently. "I can walk."

Carol put her hand on the other woman's arm. "Amanda, if you faint, no one here can carry you and we'll be stuck in the hallways."

"I didn't faint and it won't happen again." Whatever happened, she refused to accept the idea that she fainted because Dixons don't faint. Daddy or Uncle never said it; Amanda decided to add that one herself.

They all looked at her as she slid down from the table. Her legs wobbled a bit but she steadied herself by holding on to Beth's arm. "See." She actually felt pretty good. "Now give me one of those guns just in case."

Martinez had been slogging through the rain and mud for over an hour when he caught a glimpse of blue just ahead of him. Not a biter, it moved too smoothly. Quietly, he followed it. Shit! It was a fucking live person who wore a hood, which in effect cut off his peripheral vision. Swiftly, he ran up behind the man, threw his arm around his neck and slammed him to the ground, knocking the air out of his lungs before he could call out. Leaning close to his ear, he growled, "Make a sound or move without my permission and this knife goes between your ribs." He pressed the sharp edge through the man's raincoat to make his point. "Understand?"

The man nodded. Caesar carefully searched him and removed two automatic weapons and a hunting knife. "Turn over on your back and don't get up." Martinez stood up, his own weapon ready in case the man decided to try his luck.

His captive rolled over and looked up at him with wide frightened eyes. Shit. He was just a kid, nineteen or maybe early twenties. He looked slightly familiar. The boy recognized him first.

"Martinez?" The kid started to rise and Caesar pulled the hammer back on his gun. It was probably two wet to shoot but he bet the kid didn't know that. "It's me! Travis, from Woodbury. Remember?" The boy pulled his hood back grinning widely. "Shit, dude, the Governor is going to be happy to see you! We thought Dixon killed you. You and that girl, the governor's ex-girlfriend. You know, the one before Andrea? Had a hero's funeral and everything for you. Where ya been, dude? You hiding out in that prison?"

"Stand up, Travis." The kid did and Martinez searched him for weapons again, not finding any more.

"Can I have my shit back?" Travis asked, indicating his weapons, which Martinez now possessed.

"Later," Caesar told him. He vaguely remembered the boy. Didn't have any family left, if he recalled correctly. "Who's with you, Travis?" He knew the Governor never sent anyone out alone especially someone as green as this kid appeared to be.

"Three other guys. Stephens, Allen, and Shupert. Got separated yesterday and I was trying to find my way back." The boy pulled his hood back up and shoved his hands in his pockets, his teeth chattering.

Martinez didn't recognize the first two names. Shupert was probably the Governor's right hand man now. He would hate to go up against him. They'd been friends. "Why are you out here, this far from Woodbury?"

"We've been chasing a man and a woman, stole some food and weapons." The boy shifted on his feet looking entirely miserable. If he was expecting sympathy from the older man, he was mistaken.

Fucking hell. "Can you tell me where Shupert or your buddies are?" Martinez needed that information. Maybe he could talk to Shupert and see what's actually going on in Woodbury and if the Governor was up to more than just searching for thieves. He knew the man carried a grudge. And Martinez would bet Merle Dixon was still on his revenge list. Caesar wondered why the governor thought he was dead instead of just teamed with a traitor.

"Shit, dude, I got lost, turned all around in these woods." Travis gestured to the forest surrounding them. "All these fucking trees look the same to me."

Martinez slung the water from his cap and put it back on his head. "If I got you back to the main road do you think you could find them?"

"I don't know. Probably. I can try." Travis looked around. "Can we get outta this fucking rain?"

"Sure, kid. After you show me where Shupert is, I'll see what I can do about getting you a hot meal." Whether he would really do that remained to be seen. Caesar didn't know what the fuck he was going to do with him.

"Oh man, that'd be great. I'd do about anything for hot food right now." Travis smiled, looking over his shoulder at him. "Maybe you can introduce me to that pretty blonde I saw taking the laundry down."

Shit! "Get that fucking idea outta your head, boy. Her man will skin you alive just for thinking about her." Martinez needed to make a decision quick. He sure as hell couldn't let the kid go back to Woodbury and he wasn't too keen on the idea of taking him to the prison, either. That didn't leave many options.

"That Shupert is hardcore," Travis rattled on. "He wouldn't even let us stop to eat. Just shoved a box of granola bars at me when I told him I was hungry."

You were lucky he didn't stick a knife in you for complaining, Martinez thought, or for talking so damn much. The kid definitely wasn't cut out to do the Governor's dirty work. "Go straight ahead." He pointed in the direction of the highway. "I'll show you the way," he told the boy, gripping his own knife loosely in his hand.

Welcome new followers.

Thanks to all for reading and reviewing.

Special thanks to Siarh for patiently helping with edits.