AN: Some of you yelled…some of you threatened…some of you promised me chapters…so here's a little something for you. I'll try to get more out later, but I have a show to watch right now. I'll just leave this here for you.

I hope we all survive the mid-season finale!

I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think!

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Daryl sat in the waiting room in a fog. Merle was gone. He'd vanished as far as Daryl could tell and part of him told him that he should go and try to find his brother, but the other part of him wasn't willing to part company with the chair he'd told the doctor he'd be in when they came to look for him out of fear that they wouldn't find him…wouldn't know how to find him or where to look.

He watched, half heartedly, as people passed back and forth, scurrying around from one place to the next. Rick Grimes had come, spoken to someone, and left.

Daryl had spoken to a doctor, but as far as he was concerned, those people were wired to tell you not one single damn thing. You needed a dictionary and a good two days' head start on them to figure out half of what they said.

Carol and Andrea were in surgery. That much Daryl had. That was about all the information that he really felt confident that he did have at the moment.

When Daryl saw Michonne, he considered getting up to go to her, but he didn't. He waited while she scurried around, grabbing one person and then another by the arm like she was square dancing with them until she nabbed someone to talk to that held her interest for a bit.

And then she spotted him and came over, sitting down in one of the chairs near him, her eyes brimming with tears.

She reached over, taking Daryl's hand, and Daryl's mind took note of the fact that he almost couldn't feel her hand on his…it was almost like he was numb. He'd calmed down, at least, sitting there and waiting, and his heart no longer felt like it would explode, it simply felt like it would never stop aching and the lump in his throat would never let him swallow correctly again.

"You talked to them?" Michonne asked.

Daryl shrugged.

"I heard 'em," he said.

Michonne sniffed and looked around. Not finding whatever she was looking for, she opened up her purse and dug through it, coming out with a tissue.

"Ty's outside," she said. "Trying to calm down Merle…he's assaulting a trash can…"

Michonne chuckled a little through the tears she was obviously trying to hold back.

Daryl nodded a little. At least now he knew where the hell Merle was.

"Everything's going to be alright," Michonne said, reaching out and taking Daryl's hand again. He didn't know if her words were for his benefit or hers. She nodded her head. "It is…it's all going to be alright."

Daryl didn't have anything to say to that. He was doing his damnedest not to think about it. That's all the hell he could do at this point. He had to try not to think about the fact that some damn where in this hospital shit was going on that he had absolutely no control over.

He bit his lip and tasted blood. He'd chewed through the skin there some time back so that every time he nipped it, he just milked some of the blood out…but the pain felt somehow soothing. At least he could feel that and it was a momentary distraction from the way that his chest felt.

Michonne swallowed, glancing around like she was looking for someone, but there was no one to find.

"Did they tell you what happened?" Michonne asked, patting Daryl's hand and leaning a little closer to him. Her smell drifted toward him and he was oddly glad to have it wafting about with the smell of the hospital. At least it was something familiar.

He shook his head. He didn't really know what had happened. Gunshots…he knew that, but nothing more. They didn't tell him that kind of thing…that kind of thing was for the police and for lawyers maybe, but not for men that were wondering if their lives were ever going to be what they hell they'd thought they should be.

Michonne nodded her head.

"I don't know it all…but I talked to Rick," Michonne said. "Axel's admitted to shooting Ed."

"He dead?" Daryl asked.

He didn't know if it would make him feel any better…he wasn't really sure what he'd feel…but he'd kind of like to know the asshole was dead.

Michonne shrugged.

"He wasn't," she said. "He's…uh…they brought him in here for surgery."

Daryl grunted. The fucker was in the hospital…and some damn body was trying to save his life. No matter how much money they made or how damn good their lives might be, Daryl was suddenly glad he wasn't a doctor. He couldn't have ever tried to save that fucker's life…or the life of anyone else that was like him. He'd rather be a farmhand his whole damn life than be put in a position where he had to pretend that someone like Ed had the right to keep on breathing for even another minute.

"Axel said that he…" Michonne stopped and Daryl could tell that she was dealing with her own throat issue. "He heard something…his dog heard something…and he went outside. Heard screaming and went over there with the gun…he heard the shot and then he saw Ed and he shot Ed. He was there when the police got there…they said he was waiting on them…trying to help. He never denied he shot Ed…"

"Who the fuck would?" Daryl asked.

Michonne nodded, but looked away.

"Yeah…" she said softly. She turned back to him then, and Daryl realized she was still holding his hand…she was absentmindedly rubbing it almost like she was trying to milk his fingers. He could tell that she was shook up about the whole thing too.

Michonne cleared her throat.

"Carol's not bad," she said. "Not bad at all. They didn't have to put her under completely…they're doing it under a local and sedation, better for the baby."

Daryl chewed at his lip again, tasting the warm copper flow into his mouth.

"Stop, Daryl," Michonne said suddenly. "You're bleeding."

She dug another tissue out her purse and passed it to him. He took it because he wasn't positive that she wasn't in a frame of mind to dab at his lip for him if he didn't take care of the blood.

"Baby gonna be OK?" Daryl asked.

Michonne nodded.

"I'm sure she'll be fine, Daryl," Michonne said. "They're going to monitor her. The NICU here…it's a pretty good NICU. If they take her…she's only about six weeks early, Daryl. She's going to have a good chance. She wasn't hit by any of the shrapnel."

"What's a NICU?" Daryl asked, swallowing again against the lump that was trying to choke him.

Michonne took a deep breath and glanced about once more, waiting for some mystery person. Or maybe she was just checking to see if Tyreese and Merle had made it inside.

"Neonatal Intensive Care Unit," Michonne said.

Daryl's heart clenched. He didn't like the sound of intensive care. Intensive care sounded like the kind of place that people didn't come out of.

And he gnawed at his lip again, forgetting the fact that Michonne had told him to stop it.

Michonne pawed at his hand.

"It's OK," she said. "They may not take her…if they can keep Carol calm and stable…and the baby's calm and stable…they won't have to take her. It's just a maybe situation. Worst case scenario."

Daryl shook his head, but he didn't feel like he could say anything really at the moment. Michonne didn't push him and he sat there, rolling over and over in his head everything that she'd said and hoping that she was right. Even if things weren't great…maybe they weren't terrible. They'd been through some shit before, and maybe this was just more shit they had to go through.

"Andrea?" He asked finally.

Michonne cleared her throat again.

"She's in surgery," she said. "The bullet went through so they're trying to stop…"

Michonne stopped.

"Internal bleeding, things like that…Carol caught the shrapnel from her exit wound," Michonne said.

Daryl looked at Michonne.

"Andrea…"

"Was in front of Carol," Michonne said. She nodded her head.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes…or it may have been an hour…Daryl had really lost all track of time and there was nothing really marking it for him now. The only thing he was even aware of outside the jumble of thoughts in his head with the almost methodical stroking of Michonne's hand on his, and now he suspected the act was as much for her to deal with her thoughts as they were anything to soothe him.

"Ya reckon they helped 'em 'fore they helped Ed?" Daryl asked. He wasn't even sure why the question bubbled up inside of him…he didn't know where Ed was shot or how bad it was or even if the man was on the way to the morgue with a toe on his tag. But in his head, he hoped it was bad…and he liked the idea of Ed lying, suffering, no one to help him for what he'd done.

"I don't know, Daryl," Michonne said, her voice quiet.

"S'it wrong I hope he dies?" Daryl asked.

Michonne swallowed and shook her head.

"I don't know if it's wrong or not," she said.

The conversation faded off again and Daryl wondered for a moment where Merle was…what he and Tyreese were talking about…if Tyreese had even found him.

But he stayed where he was, still afraid to move even enough to shift his weight in the uncomfortable chair. And Michonne sat in her chair, probably equally uncomfortable, holding his hand.

Finally a doctor came out, and finding Daryl right where he told him he'd be, he asked him if he was "Dixon."

"There's two a' us," Daryl said.

He didn't know if they'd brought Andrea in under her name or not…he didn't know if too many people realized still that she and Merle weren't married…that Merle had never even given her the ring he'd had shoved between the mattresses at their apartment.

"I'm looking for the one that goes with Carol Dixon," the young doctor said.

"That's me," Daryl said.

He wanted to stand up, but his legs wouldn't cooperate, so he stayed where he was and hoped it wasn't some unforgiveable breach of protocol that the doctor couldn't overlook. The doctor, though, didn't seem concerned. He hugged a clipboard to his chest and looked at Daryl, his face blank…because he was just a doctor, and he didn't know Carol and he didn't know that whatever he said was going to directly affect Daryl's life.

"Your wife is stable," he said. "They're putting her in a room to monitor her. She's conscious but sedated. We suspect no lasting trauma."

Daryl listened, the man's voice going out almost as he continued speaking. That was all that Daryl needed to hear at the moment, though. His heart flipped in his chest, catching a little afterward.

"The baby?" He asked.

"We're monitoring the baby," the doctor said. "Right now there are no signs of fetal distress, but we'll continue to monitor her to be sure."

Daryl found his feet then, somehow and stopped himself before he'd clapped the doctor into a hug, an action that was oddly almost spontaneous.

"Can I see her? I wanta see her…she'll be calmer when I do," Daryl said quickly.

The doctor nodded.

"A nurse will come and get you shortly when she's in a room," the doctor said. "She'll see you then."

Daryl nodded, his heart pounding and a rush of air coming into his lungs that felt like the first breath taken when you come up for air while swimming and holding your breath for longer than you ever intended.

"Andrea Duff? Andrea Dixon?" Michonne asked, she glanced toward Daryl.

The doctor wrinkled his brow and shook his head.

"I'm sorry…I don't have any information…but I could find someone for you who might," the young man offered.

Michonne shook her head.

"It's OK," she said. "They know we're here."

The doctor nodded at her and reached his hand out toward Daryl and Daryl shook it nervously, becoming aware then that his hands were shaking. When the young man walked off, Daryl shifted around a little before he took his seat again, intending to be right where a nurse might find him when she wanted to take him to Carol.

Michonne looked a little relieved too, but her brow was still furrowed.

"Are you going to be alright?" She asked.

Daryl nodded.

He was going to be fine. He was going to be even better when a nurse showed up and he could find out where they had Carol. She hated hospitals and she hated being alone in them and she'd be better once he'd found her. He could keep her calm for the baby and then all they had to do was wait for someone to come and tell them all about Andrea.

"I'm going to look for Merle and Tyreese," Michonne said. She reached over and patted Daryl's knee. "If they come back looking for us…"

Michonne dug through her purse and handed Daryl her cell phone.

"If they come back…just call Tyreese's number. He's the first one in the contacts. We'll find you," Michonne said.

Daryl took the phone and dropped it in his shirt pocket, nervously bouncing his leg and waiting for anyone to come for him.

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When the nurse finally led Daryl to Carol's room, he had left Michonne, Tyreese, and Merle in the waiting room still waiting on news about Andrea's condition. He didn't speak to the woman at all, even though he meant to. As soon as she left him at the door to the room, he walked in and quickly walked over to Carol.

She was asleep and hooked up to a number of things, but he'd already been told that he could touch her and that she was conscious.

Daryl was almost afraid to touch her, though, and his heart had taken to aching again like it had earlier. He hadn't even known what to say to Merle when he'd come in with Tyreese, apparently some rage having escaped him outside, but once again transformed into a stone statue of himself.

Daryl sat down beside the bed, sliding a chair over. He took one of Carol's hands, the one closest to him that lie on the bed, and turned it gently, stroking his fingers over the inside of her arm, remembering that the last time he'd been left alone with her in a hospital room she'd particularly liked for him to do that.

Carol stirred after a moment, slightly, and rolled her face in his direction. Daryl realized he was crying again, his eyes burning, but he didn't try to hide it. He hadn't apologized for it before and he wasn't apologizing for it now.

Just seeing her eyes cracked open at him, even if she kept closing them like she didn't want to have them open, was enough to make him feel a hundred times better. He leaned up, close to her, knowing now that even when her eyes were closed, she was just hiding behind them, playing possum like she did on the mornings when she didn't want to wake up to the alarm.

"Ya gon' be OK," Daryl said. "I'm sorry…Carol…I'm so damn sorry we weren't there…" Daryl said.

He had to stop speaking, the lump in his throat choking him. He didn't know if it would have made a difference if they'd been there or not. He didn't know if Ed knew they weren't there…if the bastard had waited for them not to be there…he really didn't know anything. But he was still sorry that he wasn't there to protect them when they needed him.

Finally, though, swallowing down the lump as much as he could and continuing to drag his hand over the inside of Carol's arm, Daryl continued talking.

"Lil' Bit's gon' be OK, too," he said. "She just needs ya ta stay calm an' she's gon' be OK…"

Daryl could hear the sound of the monitors and he knew that they were keeping a check on the baby. He'd already been warned that if she moved too much, the monitor would start to make some kind of hellacious noise. The nurse had told him if it happened not to worry…it didn't necessarily mean anything bad, it just meant that she had rolled around and out of the reach of the monitor. But they weren't suspecting that she would move too much for a little while. Whatever it was that they'd given Carol to keep her not wanting to really commit to being awake would probably keep the baby from wanting to commit to any big move.

"Ya can hear her heart beat," Daryl said, looking around and finding the monitor that was obviously marking the baby, attached to whatever device they had velcroed to Carol's body. "Ya like listenin' to it…ya can hear it."

Daryl sat back down in his chair, realizing that Carol still wasn't going to talk to him. He was scared to touch anything else. He wouldn't even dare to touch her belly, though he kept looking at it. He didn't want to take the risk of messing up anything that the doctor's had done to make everything as good as it was right now, so he continued to rub the inside of her arm and figured that someone would come eventually to update him on what was happening elsewhere.

"Ya just sleep," Daryl said to Carol. "Ya need ta sleep an' Lil' Bit needs ta sleep…but I'ma stay right here. An' everybody else…they all outside an' they all gon' see ya when ya get ready ta wake up, but right now ya just need ta sleep…"

Daryl sighed and sat back in the chair, keeping his gentle rubbing up and listening to the sounds of the monitors that he found soothing because as long as they were going…their hums and beeps repeating over and over…he knew that he just had to wait things out, but they were headed in the right direction.