Events progress at Alexandria and Hilltop as Wade realizes just who he may be dealing with and the difficult birth of Carol and Daryl's son tests all those involved.

Love Within Reason
No one has ever loved me
As deeply as you.
No one has truly shown me
What love could be like until now:

Not pretty or safe or easy
But more than I ever knew.
Love within reason...
That isn't love.
And I've learned that from you...

"No One has Ever Loved Me" from Passion, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim

Alexandria

"We shoulda brought more of 'em here with us—do this scut work." one of the men from Sanctuary groused, scowling up at Wade as he dumped his wheelbarrow full of concrete into the hole around the new pilings.

"Just keep your trap shut—we ain't safe in here until we get that gate repaired."

"Don't see why Chet n' them got the cake detail takin' the doc back to Sanctuary. By rights that shoulda been us what had to rough it outside while you all was livin' it up inside of Hilltop."

In actuality, Chet was very much not living it up, since he was dead, along with three of the others that had entered the fort with Wade. After making his deal with Maggie, Wade had agreed to act as a double agent, returning to his mission for Negan of taking over Alexandria, but bringing with him a force of people actually from there as pseudo-forced labor. The fifteen men who had been waiting in the woods were none the wiser and the one other survivor of Wade's group was being held in the jail cell at Hilltop to sell the story that he had left with the others supposedly escorting Carson.

They'd been here a week and had cleaned out the walkers who had wandered in the open gate and were now working on a new one. The damage done to the old one by Negan's RPG meant a complete rebuild, including resetting the columns. Welders were working on the steel superstructure of the gate itself to the left of the entrance, which for now was blocked by a school bus reinforced with wooden panels.

"And how come we gotta keep hands off the pussy we took from Hilltop?" another man grumbled. "Negan ain't here. Whatta you care what we do?"

"We have an agreement with Gregory not to harm anyone from Hilltop." Wade said evenly. That had also been part of his deal with Maggie. She wasn't sending any of her people along to be brutalized by Negan's men.

"So if they're down with it, not forced like, it's okay?" a man named Barney asked. He was one of the quieter men and had lost his wife right before he'd joined up with Negan. Tall, thin and balding with a stringy blonde comb-over, he was a third string defender, brought along on this run only because the more capable men had been taken by Negan for his mission to Bethesda.

"You got yerself a girlfriend there, Barn?" Wade asked, curious.

"I been working in the gardens with a nice lady..." Barney said, embarrassed.

"Pantry lady?" one of the other men guffawed.

"If you mean Miss Olivia, I regret to inform you that her affections are already engaged." said a strong clear voice.

The men all turned and saw one of the men who had come from Hilltop with them. He was carrying what looked like a tackle box and had a very stubborn look on his broad face.

"Well, hey there... Gene is it?" Wade called.

"It is not. It is Eugene, Eugene Porter and the lady in question is with me."

"She your wife or somethin'?" Barney asked, puffing up a bit in challenge. "I didn't see no ring on her finger."

"Miss Olivia and I have an understanding." Eugene said with great dignity.

"You puttin' the wood to her then, Mullet?" one of the other men said crudely. "Usin' all that cushion fer some pushin'?"

At that both Eugene and Barney glared at the crude man.

"You shut the hell up, Frank—she's a nice woman!" Barney said, angry now.

"She's a fat bitch that not even you two stupid fucks woulda looked at twice in the world that was." Frank said with an ugly curl of his lip. "And Negan ain't here, so if Barney wants her, he's got dibs." And then he pulled his gun, aiming it at Eugene's head.

Barney reacted quickly, pulling his gun and aiming it at the crude man, but Eugene had already started swinging the metal box he was carrying, spinning around and building up so much centrifugal force that when it made contact with Frank's head it laid him out.

"What the fuck!" one of the other men squawked, pulling his gun and aiming it at Eugene, but Barney stepped in front of the Mullet and protected him, aiming his gun right back.

"Served him right. He disrespected the man's woman." Wade said, sounding bored as he hefted his Uzi. "Everybody get back to it!"

The other man lowered their guns and slowly put them away. Grumbling, they picked up their wheelbarrows, shovels and welding tools and went back to work.

"You're a lucky man, Eugene." Barney said, holding out his hand for him to shake. "You be good to her."

"I will endeavor to do my best." Eugene nodded and then the two men backed away from one another and Barney headed out in the opposite direction while Eugene stood still.

"What's in the box?" Wade asked, indicating the metal tackle box Eugene still held.

"My completed work on the shortwave radio set so you can communicate with Hilltop." Eugene said, "However my use of it as a weapon may have rendered it ineffectual."

"Uh huh." Wade said, side-eying the strange man. "Well, you get on that then."

"Yes sir," Eugene said, nodding and then he turned to leave.

"And Eugene?"

"Yes?"

"You need me to take care of that?" he gestured towards Frank lying on the ground in front of him. The man was just starting to stir, lifting his hand to the bloody gash on his head and groaning.

"No thank you. I think he's learned his lesson, but if he hasn't, I will not be so reasonable with him again." Eugene said with an air of untroubled confidence. Without any further goodbye he turned and trudged back down the street, taking the shortwave to see if it needed repairs.

"Don't mess with the Mullet." Wade mused to himself. Even the weakest appearing of these people was formidable. He took that as his lesson for the day.

Hilltop

"How's she doing?" Riley asked, her tone concerned, shifting Judith in her arms when the little girl tried reaching out for the tray of food Claire was carrying.

"About the same." Claire said with a little sigh and a sad crooked smile.

"But he's good, right?" the girl asked, sounding even more concerned. "Still eating and everything?"

"He's doing really well—Denise said he can try taking the breast when he comes out of the incubator today—no more tube feedings."

"That's wonderful! I felt so bad seeing him with that tube in his nose..." Riley said. "It's good Celeste has enough milk for them both since..." her voice trailed off and she looked sad.

They had almost lost her when the placenta separated from the uterine wall causing massive bleeding. Denise, the two doctors Carson and Erin saved the baby with an emergency caesarian and along with blood transfusions from three different donors, including Daryl, they pulled Carol through.

"She might still agree before her milk dries up." Claire nodded. It would be such a good thing to help Carol bond with the baby if she could nurse him, but with him in the incubator it was impossible for now even if she agreed. While she'd been unconscious after the surgery they'd been able to pump to get the all important first milk, the colostrum that helped provide natural immunities for the baby, but since she'd regained consciousness she'd refused to even see him.

Daryl was a wreck. He spent his days and nights going back and forth between Carol and the baby, still darkly terrified he'd lose them if they were out of his sight. He had to be forced to go outside and get some air and would only do so if one of the doctors stayed with Carol.

"I'd better get in there." Claire said, but Riley didn't move.

"I thought maybe seeing Judith would help her." she said uncertainly.

"It's a good thought, honey." Claire said gently, giving Riley a patient smile. "Not quite ready for that yet though, okay?"

"Okay." Riley replied, looking a bit lost.

"Appa!" Judith said in an indignant grunt, reaching again for the small dish of applesauce on the tray of food Claire carried.

"No sweetie this is for Carol." Claire admonished her, "There's more in the kitchens."

"I'll take her—tell Carol and Daryl we said hi, okay?" Riley said and Claire nodded, pushing the trailer door open and going in. She passed by Erin who was sitting beside the incubator with little Mr. Dixon, her gloved hand reaching inside through one of the access holes in the Plexiglas side to stroke his little back as he lay curled up sleeping. They nodded at one another and then Claire continued on to the adjoining recovery room where Carol was staying.

Daryl was sitting, leaning back in a chair next to the bed where Carol lay propped up on several pillows, the covers pulled up to her chest but with her arms out, lying limply beside her. Her eyes were open but unfocused, her face blank and slack.

When Claire entered Daryl sat up, wiping his hand down over his face in a weary gesture and then standing and holding his hands out for the tray she carried. A similar tray, with the food barely touched, sat on the small table next to Daryl's chair.

"Thanks." Daryl said.

"If she doesn't start eating more we'll have to—" Claire began, but Daryl cut her off with an angry look.

"She's fine." he insisted, putting the new tray down below her feet at the foot of the bed and then grabbing the other unfinished one off the table and handing it back to Claire.

"Denise said he can come out today—you want to be there for that?" Claire asked him.

"Of course." Daryl scowled at her and then lifted the tray of food, placing it on the nightstand.

"And how about you, Carol?" Claire asked, raising her voice slightly, hoping to penetrate the fog behind which Carol had retreated.

Daryl lifted the spoon on the tray, dipping it in the applesauce and holding it up to Carol's mouth. She grimaced slightly and tightened her lips.

"You promised." Daryl said softly, and Carol's eyes shifted ever so briefly to his face before she opened her mouth just wide enough for the spoon.

Claire watched as the rough looking man slowly fed the pale thin woman the small dish of applesauce. A caesarian was major abdominal surgery, but physically she was already starting to improve, though if she were sleeping and eating better she'd be stronger. However Claire was most concerned with the classic postpartum depression symptoms she was manifesting.

The only person she would talk to was Daryl, and then only if no one else was in the room. In the week since his birth, she hadn't asked to see the baby, almost as if she didn't really believe he had survived the delivery and they were all just humoring Daryl so she wouldn't lose her mind.

The baby had needed the extra care and intervention of the incubator and special feeding for the first few days, but he was a tiny warrior and strong.

"Have you decided on a name?" Claire asked Daryl, forcing the issue. "We can't just keep calling him baby boy Dixon." she smiled, "I understand your brother's name was Merle—were you thinking of—"

Carol choked on the apple sauce trying to swallow it while making an indignant noise at the same time. She glared at Claire as she coughed, trying to clear her throat.

Daryl had a wary hopeful look on his face as he handed Carol the napkin to wipe the spit up apple mush off her chin. Her hand came up to take it, and a quick smile lit his face, but he hid it to reply to Claire.

"He's a fighter like Merle." Daryl agreed, just to poke at her a bit more. "And he definitely favors the Dixon side in looks." he added, which wasn't true. He had strawberry blonde peach fuzz on his tiny noggin just like Sophia and the same up-tilt of his button nose as Carol.

"Please stop lying." Carol said softly, her voice so full of defeat it brought tears to Claire's eyes.

"What am I lying about, Carol?' Claire asked gently.

"I kill them. The children; I always kill them." Carol said flatly, her hand holding the napkin dropping back down to the bed.

"That ain't true." Daryl said fiercely. "You saved Judith—you saved all of us. Sam's been waitin' for days to see you, Riley n' Enid and Carl too. You saved them. They love you, just like me, just like our son."

"I never heard him cry." Carol whispered, anguished, "They took him and he didn't make a sound."

"Carol, you were bleeding out—you lost consciousness during the delivery—" Claire told her. "Believe me, he made noise." The kitten-like mewls had been because he was so small and his lungs a bit underdeveloped, but they were loud enough.

"Is that what you been stuck on? You didn't hear him?" Daryl asked her. He'd been trying for days to get through to her, to find out why she was so certain the baby didn't make it. Was why she refused to look through the opened door to the next room where his incubator was plugged into the Hilltop generators because she couldn't hear him fussin'?

"We've been feeding him through a gastrointestinal tube that goes in through his nose to his stomach. He can't vocalize with the tube in." Claire explained.

"You said we can get him out—let's go." Daryl suddenly said, standing up and pulling the covers down off of Carol.

"Wait—her IV." Claire said, putting the tray down out of the way on the floor and coming to the other side of the bed to unhook the Ringers solution from the port in her hand and then nodded to Daryl so he could put his arms under her knees and shoulders, careful not to jostle her. Claire pulled the blanket off the bed and put it over Carol and Daryl carried her into the other room.

When she saw them, Erin stood so they could place Carol in the rocking chair next to the incubator, then she ran to get Denise.

Tears filled Carol's eyes as she sat there, rigidly still, not looking at the Plexiglas container, so sure it would be empty and she'd have to face the truth they were so cruelly forcing her see.

"He likes when you pet him" Daryl said softly, kneeling next to her and staring at their son, "Even my big ham hands. I just use my pinky real careful..." he ran his fingers down over the back of Carol's hand in imitation of the touch he used on the baby.

Carol's eyes went to her hands and then up to meet his eyes.

"Just look at him, sweetheart." he urged her, "He needs you; he needs his momma..."

Carol stared at him, saw the earnestness in his eyes and let it pull her gaze along with his to the incubator.

Baby boy Dixon was like a little bird that had fallen from a nest too soon in a wind storm. What she could see of his little bald head under the tiny knit cap was round and fuzzy; his wizened red face grimacing from the plastic tube taped to his cheek and entering his nose, his pigeon chest was moving up and down rapidly above his swollen belly. She could see the blue and red map of veins and arteries through his translucent skin and marveled at how long and delicate his fingers and toes were on his miniature hands and feet.

"He looks terrible." she said with a soft cry and then put her hand over her mouth in shame. This was her baby—he was beautiful—but oh god, he was so small and red and bruised looking...

At the sound of her voice he stretched out his little spider monkey fingers in her direction as if he was reaching for her and the monitors showed his heart and oxygenation rate had increased.

"You both been through the ringer." Daryl reminded her. "And he looks a lot better than he did, believe it or not."

"Talk to him—he heard you for months—he recognizes your voice from in there." Claire urged Carol.

"I don't know what to say." Carol said helplessly, overwhelmed. She'd refused to let herself feel anything after she'd woken up from the delivery, knowing she'd shatter into a million pieces, knowing Daryl needed her not to...

"Here." Daryl said, handing her the anti-bacterial wipes to clean her hands and then the vinyl gloves so she could reach in as Erin had been doing, and he did the same. He reached in first and the baby grasped hold of his pinkie when he ran it down the thin little arm and into his palm.

Carol made a little noise of astonished amusement.

"There you go, son." Daryl said softly, his voice a gentle rumble, "Brought your momma to meet ya." he nodded at Carol and she put her right hand through one of the other two openings on this side.

"Where... how should I?" she asked him and Daryl tugged his finger out of the baby's grip so she could take his place.

When the little fingers closed over hers, holding on tight, she gasped.

"Oh God..."

In that moment she finally believed it was true. Their son was alive. They'd gotten away from Negan. She wasn't just dreaming all of this. She hadn't lost him.

"Do you want to hold him?" Denise asked quietly from the doorway, smiling over at them.

"More than anything." Carol said, continuing to look at the tiny boy she and Daryl had made with their love. She reached over and took Daryl's hand in her free one, lacing their fingers together.

"I think we can manage that." the doctor said and exchanged a relieved smile with Claire, Erin and looked at Daryl, who was watching Carol with tears of relief in his eyes.

AN: Some dear friends of mine had preemie twins a couple of years ago and I was invited to come and see them and oh my god they were just these tiny and vulnerable looking little birds, just like how Carol saw the baby in this chapter, though Baby boy Dixon isn't on oxygen as they were.

I was going to drag out Carol's post-partum depression a bit longer, but I am just not in a place right now where I can make her suffer any more, so it got mostly resolved in this chapter. It can be a very serious condition and Carol is lucky she has Claire and the other doctors there along with Daryl to support her through it. She has enough self–imposed guilt over lost children to last several lifetimes.

Next time we catch up with Rick et al. on their mission to rescue Rosita and take out Negan.

Thanks for reading! And thanks to all the other writers who have been updating their wonderful fics to help us all get through the end of this season.