Amanda rubbed the small bump that had finally appeared on her thin frame…her baby. No matter what the test-stick read, it wasn't truly real in her mind until now…until she saw and felt physical evidence. What she didn't feel was maternal instincts…or joy, or pride or even affection for the thing that grew in her. She felt was helplessness and fear… overwhelming, paralyzing fear. As bleak as the survivors' future was, hers was a black abyss. Would it be so terrible to die in childbirth? All of this would be over. No more trying to survive one more day. No more worrying that the Governor would find her or that the baby would be a monster. No more anything.

She wanted to kill the Governor herself...to watch the life go out of him with her own bare hands. It was unlikely that would happen, though. Whatever did happen, if her daddy and Daryl killed him or confirmed his death, she would still have his bastard growing inside her. Nothing would change that. If she did in fact live through the birth, serious doubts plagued her, such as, her ability to raise any child. Amanda had never been the motherly type. She had always been a strong, independent, and self-sufficient woman until the freaking world fell apart. Now she felt like she was just a burden to her family and friends. Having to admit she needed help with anything, even child-rearing, went against the grain of everything she was.

She idly wondered if Caesar still wanted to be a father to this baby. After the beating he took from her father, she was surprised he was talking to her…but he was…a little. She wanted to be mad at him for keeping his secret but she just could not muster the energy. The more she dwelled on that terrible revelation, the more she wished her dad hadn't forced Caesar to tell her. Knowing was so much more devastating than not knowing. She wished she could go to sleep and wake up when this was all over.

A solitary tear seeped from her tired eyes and she wiped it away angrily as she sat alone at the breakfast table, meal untouched.

"Amanda?" Martinez asked, lightly touching her shoulder. "You okay, baby?" Startled, she jumped slightly then nodded her head for him to sit beside her which he did. "Wanna talk?"

She shook her head.

"You need to eat," he reminded her as he helped himself to a bowl of oatmeal.

"It's cold," she muttered.

"Isn't it always?" he replied with a grin.

"I suppose it is," she said picking up her spoon and stirring the sticky stuff.

"Then don't complain and eat up or I'll force-feed you," he warned and Amanda wasn't entirely sure that he was teasing.

She took a small bite and "chewed" it thoughtfully. "…What Caesar did…it wasn't all that bad...he must really love you." The words Rowan said the other night kept running through her head and she turned in her chair to look at him. The deep bruising had faded slightly and was turning to ugly shade of greenish-yellow and the swelling was mostly gone.

Caesar swallowed a mouthful of cold oatmeal and put his spoon down. "What?" he asked.

"I think I'm falling in love you." That's what he said only a few days ago. It felt like a lifetime. She shook her head quickly, pushing those memories aside."Nothing. 's not true. I…uh…I…do want to talk…" Amanda stopped abruptly at the sound of Beth coming in from the kitchen.

The younger woman sat down across from them and propped her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands, sighing loudly. She obviously had some serious business on her mind and was waiting for one of them to ask. Amanda was in no mood to listen to anybody else's problems at the moment but Beth sighed again with even greater exaggeration, instead of ignoring her friend's obvious hint, she asked, "Is something wrong, Beth?"

"Yes," she answered, clearly frustrated. "It's Daryl."

Of course it was. And dear Beth, being her sweet, open and honest self, couldn't answer with a simple "nothing" as Amanda would have hoped to hear.

"I think I'll finish this in the kitchen so you two ladies can talk." Caesar picked up his bowl and tried to make an escape.

"You don't have to go," Beth said. "Finish your breakfast."

Clearly reluctant, he sat back down and resumed eating.

"We're, er, I'm having issues…of a…rather intimate nature," the young woman admitted uncomfortably as a pink flush spread across her fair skin.

This time, Caesar stood quickly and sidestepped Amanda's reach. "I'd rather get punched by your dad than hear about your uncle's 'intimacy' issues." he said.

"That is not funny, Martinez!" she called after him.

"It wasn't supposed to be, sweetheart," he replied as he disappeared into the kitchen, letting the door slam behind him.

"Coward!" she yelled.

"I'm serious!" Beth said with an aggravated huff. "I thought we were friends, Amanda."

"I'm sorry. It's just that hearing about my uncle's issues this early in the morning makes me a little queasy." And that was an understatement, Amanda thought, rubbing her belly.

"I have no one else to talk and don't say Maggie because she doesn't think I should be with Daryl in the first place." Beth reached across the table and grabbed Amanda's hands. "I don't think he likes me anymore."

"Did he say that?"

"Of course not. He's just…I can't explain it. He acts like he doesn't even know me unless we are…" Beth looked around, leaned across the table and whispered, "doing it." The pink flush on her cheeks turn bright red.

It was no secret that her uncle wasn't one for demonstrating his emotions… other than general pissiness, anger, impatience... "Beth, honey, I'm sure D-..."

"I've tried talking to him, Amanda, but he tells me not to worry. Then he runs off before I can say anything else!" A muscle twitched in her delicate jaw as she blinked hard to keep from tearing up.

"Then don't worry, Beth," Amanda answered wearily. "Daryl doesn't know how to talk to you about his feelings. He shows you how he feels in other ways."

"Such as?"

How the hell should I know!? Beth's sky blue eyes bored into her waiting expectantly for an she thought Amanda was going to spout out some profound little pearl of wisdom, she was sadly mistaken. "I think Daryl…probably shows his feelings…physically…like with sex."

Beth leaned back in her chair and twirled a long strand of hair thoughtfully. "Well then. I guess I have my answer," she said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Amanda asked warily.

She blushed again, steeled herself and said, "He was only concerned with his own pleasure last night…and the night before." Then she pushed herself away from the table and stalked off.

"Shit," Amanda said and dropped her forehead to the table with a soft thud.

Daryl Dixon yawned, stretched, and reached for Beth as he did every morning since they "moved in" together. That was the best night's sleep he had in awhile and, damn, he felt good…and horny. He patted around then opened his eyes to find himself alone in their tent. Shit! Had he slept past breakfast? Why the fuck didn't she wake me?

He ran his hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes again as he searched for his pants. Where the fuck were his pants? He didn't like waking up without Beth now that he had gotten used to sleeping with her. It threw his whole damn day off because his gut told him something was wrong and he had no idea what that hell he could have done.

He eventually found his pants under the blanket he'd thrown off. He pulled them on quickly and then looked around for a shirt. Not finding the one he was looking for, he grabbed the nearest, sniffed it and wrinkled his nose. He sniffed it again. It wasn't that bad; he'd worn worse. He shrugged and jerked it over his head. Then, he slung his crossbow over his shoulder and headed out. There was much to be done today, First and foremost on his list was to track down and kill the Governor of Woodbury.

"Carol, why don't you take breakfast to Oscar? I bet he's starving," Martinez offered, taking the soapy dish rag from her hand.

"Are you sure?" she asked even as she untied the makeshift apron at her waist.

"I'll clean up here. Go see your man." He had no problem taking over kitchen duty. Besides, he didn't know if Amanda and Beth were still in the dining room.

"Thank you, Caesar," the older woman said with quick peck on his cheek. She and Oscar hadn't seen much of each other since Rick had stepped up the watch duties and she was grateful for every moment. She wiped her damp fingers on her pants and then ran them through her short silver hair and frowned. "Do I look okay?"

"You look beautiful as always, Carol," Martinez assured her with a smile and a wink. "Now, get out of here before I change my mind."

Daryl didn't make it very far when he heard a muffled sound. His hand automatically went to the knife at his belt as he tiptoed stealthy towards the noise. He froze. A soft sob, followed by a loud, unladylike snort and then a "stupid redneck jerk" reached his ears. He relaxed, but just slightly, because he was pretty sure he'd rather face a horde of walkers than the crying young woman who was plainly unhappy with him. For a mere second, Daryl actually entertained the thought of quietly backing up and finding another route to the breakfast table.

He straightened up after giving himself a stern pep talk about not being a pussy and steeled his nerves. "Beth? Angel? What's the matter?"

Beth quickly wiped her eyes and looked away from him. "Nothing."

Nothing? Oh shit. He knew enough about women to know that "nothing" meant something and she expected him to know what it was. Shit, shit, shit! "Darlin'…"

"Don't 'darling' me, Daryl Dixon," she snapped.

"Honey…"

"And don't honey me, either!" She blinked fiercely to push the tears back.

"What the hell did I do, Beth?"

With her hands on her hips and a dangerous look that made him step back she demanded, "Do you even like me?"

"Huh?" Where the hell did that come from?

"I mean other than sex…do you even like me?"

She was shooting questions faster than he could answer. "Darl—uh…of course I do, Angel…"

"Then why don't you do nice things for me?"

"Huh?" He scratched his head. "Like what?"

"Like what?" She shook her head in apparent disgust. "Like…like…I don't know, Daryl. Surely you can think of something. Try wearing clothes that don't stink once in awhile."

He didn't think his clothes weren't that bad. He started to sniff his shirt but was cut off by her again.

"Or bring me something nice…like your brother did for Rowan."

"You want a sweater?" That was easy. He could do that if it was what she wanted but he didn't see what was so great about that oversized one his brother picked up.

Beth rolled her eyes. "Seriously Daryl…you really don't get it?"

"What?"

Just show me you care about me even when we aren't having sex."

"Beth! Hush!" Daryl grabbed her arm and looked around sharply. He was hungry and he had to get together with Grimes and Merle to plan their attack on the Governor. He did not want to get into this here or now, or ever.

"Don't shush me."

"Can't we talk about it later, Angel?"

"Fine!" She answered icily and stormed off.

Women are fuckin' crazy…he would never understand them.

Carl Grimes half-dragged his baby sister by the hand. He couldn't believe he was still babysitting! It was so unfair. He had things to do. Important things…like help protect the entire group not just this babbling and drooling little brat. He went to his father with a brilliant plan, one that he thought would have made everyone happy…and he was shot down. He didn't understand what was so bad about locking Judith in a cell while the grown-ups, which included him, worked.

"Bef! Bef!" the little bratling called out and Carl looked up just in time to avoid being run over by a very upset blonde beauty. Was Beth crying? He scooped up the toddler and ran after her.

"Beth! Wait up! Beth!" he called out but the young woman didn't slow down so he ran faster.

"Bef! Bef!" the youngest Grimes child cried, grabbing onto her brother's scraggly hair for dear life as he to struggled to catch up.

"Beth…Stop…Please!" Carl panted as he felt like he could go no further unless he dropped his 'burden'.

Beth suddenly stopped but didn't turn around. "What?" she asked impatiently while trying to hide the fact that she was upset.

Now that he had reached her he had no idea what to say. "I…uh…" Thankfully his sister reached out and Beth took her in her arms.

"Hey little princess," she said and nuzzled the child's neck with her nose, sending Judith into a frenzy of giggles.

"Are you okay, Beth?" Carl asked, truly concerned.

"I'm fine, Carl," she answered but her red-rimmed eyes made a lie of her words.

Carl shuffled his feet awkwardly and shoved his hands in his pocket feeling the thin foil squares that he had tucked away after Merle had given them to him. Holy crap! He'd forgotten all about them! A bright red blush consumed his freckled face.

"Are you okay, Carl?" Beth asked and felt his forehead. "Do you need to sit down?"

"No!" he said a little too abruptly. "I…uh…need to feed Judith." He grabbed the toddler, hurrying away before Beth could ask anything else.

The morning sun blinded him as he pushed the heavy door open with his back and stumbled out with his squealing load. "Why did I say that, Judith? She's gonna think I'm an idiot!"

"Fuck!" answered the dark-haired child.

Carl snorted. "You said it, little sis. Fuck." He slid down to the ground with his back to the door and let his sister loose to run free.

Rowan folded the tough white prison towels into a neat stack on the table. Would it be possible to raise a family with Merle Dixon? She wanted believe his words because, God help her, she loved the dumbass redneck. Sometimes, though, he just scared the shit out of her.

"I ain't never felt like this before…the way I feel for you and Junior and it scares the fucking hell out of me. I know I ain't good enough for you but I'm tryin' an' sometimes I gonna fuck it up just because I'm a Dixon. Be patient with me, girl.

I promise I ain't never gonna lay a hand on ya or Junior in anger. I ain't ever hit a woman in my life unless she done hit me first. There was that bitch down home, but she came at me with a baseball bat and I just knocked her on her ass to save my own skull from being bashed in. And, I ain't never hurt a kid.

He meant what he said. Rowan didn't doubt that…but if it come right down to it, how much could he really control when anger consumed him? She re-tied her long ponytail, wondering if she would ever get used to not being able to wash regularly. They ran out of shampoo and since Rick didn't consider it a necessity so they would do without until next supply run. Her hair felt…yucky. Ugh. She could cut it short like Carol's hair. It would be a lot easier. Merle would have a fit. He loved to run his fingers through the long dark locks, dirty or not. He said he loved the way her hair fell like a curtain, or a veil, around his face when she was on top…she closed her eyes, remembering the firm grip of his hand on her bare hip, the other arm resting casually on her thigh as she moved leisurely against him.

"You're killin' me, baby doll," he groaned as he thrust his hips in rhythm with hers.

She smiled down at him in the dark, letting her hair caress his neck and chest. "I want to make sure you come back to me, Dixon."

"You ain't ever gonna be rid of me…fuck…baby…" he bit out as she picked up speed. "…long as I got somethin' to say 'bout…it."

How things have changed. Rowan had been terrified of living without him and now she was scared of living with him. The strain was obvious on them both. They hadn't had sex since his return. The one time he made an attempt, she burst into tears. He cursed and turned his back to her and she cried herself to sleep. She shook her head in disbelief and disgust. She was stronger than that but she couldn't control the waterworks. Had to be the pregnancy.

She and Merle had actually discussed the incident with Martinez and Merle offered no apologies except that he was sorry that she had to see it. She shuddered; the memory still caused a strong physical reaction. Rowan couldn't see why he didn't understand how it was wrong. Caesar was her friend and she didn't know if she could have forgiven Merle if he had actually thrown him over the rail. He wasn't sorry he did it and given the chance to do it all over, he would most likely do it again.

This world ain't the same, baby doll. If we're gonna survive, we can't be all nice an' polite an' sit around the table and talk. Words'll get a man killed faster than you can bat your pretty eyelashes… Action first, questions later. It's us hard cold-hearted ones that's gonna survive but when we come out alive on the other end of this we're gonna need the soft ones, like you…and Cherry Blossom to help us be civilized again. You ain't gonna like everything I do or say, darlin' but I'm doing for you, our baby, and the rest of my family.

Arms crossed, Merle leaned against the doorframe and watched Rowan as she folded the laundry. She had a faraway look in her sad eyes and her mouth was turned down in a frown. She had been like this since his return. And it was that bastard Martinez's fault. He knew the Governor was the one that raped Amanda and didn't say a goddamn thing to anyone! He had trusted Martinez. His fuckin' mistake. He knew better than trust anyone who wasn't kin.

Rowan put the last towel on the stack. She was so pretty and he wanted to go to her and pull her into his arms and beg her not to be mad at him anymore…and he would if he thought she wouldn't bristle up like a fuckin' porcupine. As for the beggin' part …well…the Dixon in him would never let that happen even if he tried.

"Merle?"

Fuck! So lost in his own thoughts, he got caught, like a deer in headlights, staring at her…Realizing he was still in the doorway, he backed up but before Rowan could pass, his arm flew up to block the way.

She stopped just short of touching him. "I need to put the laundry away."

"Rowan…"

She swallowed hard. Rowan. He rarely used her name. It was either darlin', baby doll, or girl…anything but her name. "Please, Merle…"

He should let her pass but he didn't want to. He wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her how much he needed her, that this world wasn't worth living in without her, that he was a better man with her in his life…that he she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and that he loved her. He wanted to but he didn't. In the end, he dropped his arm and watched sadly as she walked away without a backward glance.

Amanda sat at the table alone. She needed to haul her lazy ass up and start cleaning up the breakfast mess but really wasn't up for it. Caesar had taken over so Carol could have a break. Maybe some fresh air would clear her head and give her a bit of energy. She could talk Rick into allowing her to go on watch again. Yeah, right.

Any company was better than her own right now. She could help Rowan out with the laundry—scratch that—she saw her daddy heading that way. She sure as hell wasn't up to listening to Merle Dixon's loud mouth. He had been downright unbearable since Rowan had expressed her concerns about his uncontrollable temper. Now he bitched about everything. He bitched about women, about being trapped like fish in a barrel just waiting for the Governor to come, about why Rick let Martinez stay, about having fleas 'cause a damned kitten was hiding somewhere in his cell, about being cooped up in a damn prison, shitty food, blah, blah, blah, blah, BLAH. The list was endless.

So, kitchen it is. She pushed herself away from the table and began collecting the bowls. There wasn't any food left for the kittens. Carol had put a bowl away for Rick this morning and actually had attached a note with his name on it with a crude drawing of a cat with a slash through it…

Amanda really felt bad about it and tried to apologize for giving his meal to the kitten but he wasn't interested in listening. He was too busy with more important things than her. Fine. She understood that. She began to wonder if she had always been so selfish…even before the dead started walking. Hmmmm….yes…the answer was most likely yes. She didn't think about others as much as she should. She had always assumed everyone could take care of their own shit. It wasn't like that anymore. They needed each other to survive this dangerous place and to eventually defeat or outlive the monsters that now roamed the earth.

"Hey Possum." Daryl said as he plopped down at the table. "Pass me a bowl, would ya?"

"Ya snooze, ya lose," she answered, picking up the last dish.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"Figure it out. You taught it to me."

"Fuck!" He slapped the table. "We really out? Ain't heard a thing about us being low on food."

"Sorry. Get your ass out of bed earlier." That really wasn't fair and she knew it but she couldn't help it.

It wasn't the first time he went without a meal and wouldn't be the last. "Where's Grimes?" Sooner they get this Woodbury shit over, sooner he could hunt.

"How should I know?" she answered. "And, speaking of Grimes, there's probably a bowl left in the kitchen for him. "

"What crawled up your ass?" He was sorry as soon as he said it. Daryl pulled a flask of cheap whiskey out of his jacket and took a swig…the breakfast of champions.

"Where did you get that?" she asked.

"Found it and you ain't getting any!"

"I wasn't asking," she snapped.

"Good," he bit back and swallowed another mouthful of the nasty stuff and stuck it in his jacket waiting for the familiar warmth to fill his stomach.

"Look in the yard, Uncle Daryl," she conceded. "Rick's probably checking the perimeter."

"Fine," he grumbled and shook his head as he let the outside door slam shut behind him, the loud boom echoing throughout the common area. Women were fuckin' crazy. Every last one of 'em.

Rick finished his surveillance of the prison yard perimeter, satisfied that there were no breaches. It had been quiet since then Dixons return but his gut told him that it would be short-lived. Since no one knew for certain if the Governor had been killed, Rick would assume that the man was alive. The Governor would come for Amanda's baby…his baby and Rick Grimes would do everything in his power to keep that from happening.

Though the Dixons didn't trust Martinez, Rick still couldn't justify keeping him out of the rounds. He didn't have enough people as it was to keep a tight watch. They needed the manpower too much. Martinez wouldn't let anything happen to Amanda and it would have to be good enough for now.

Just as he headed to the tower to relieve Oscar, a single shot tore through the silence of the morning and missed his head by mere inches. A horrific scream followed. Instinctively, Rick hit the ground and pulled out his gun. The bullet came from outside the prison, of that he was sure. He peered through the tall grass but didn't see a thing. Damn it! He crawled forward on his stomach, inching closer to a small rise in the yard for a measure of cover.

He needed to warn the others.

Welcome new followers. Thank you for reading and reviewing!

Merry Christmas and happy reading!

Annelisa