AN: Again, we're still dealing with aftermath, and we will be for a while. I'd like to thank you for your support of the story. As I mentioned before, I'm sure that I won't address everything in the fallout chapters that I should, but I'm going to be doing my best. There's really a good deal here to deal with. We're going to be seeing a little more character development here and we're getting ready to move into some more plot development as the community begins to pull together after what's happened.

I hope you enjoy!

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When Michonne woke up her back was screaming at her. She wrestled herself up into a sitting position and sat on the side of the bed a moment. She'd been asleep, but she didn't feel like she'd really slept. She started to turn, knowing that Daryl's side of the bed was empty, but her neck and shoulders ached. She'd spent too long in this position, too long in the bed.

She got up, still half dressed in what she'd worn the day before. She was going to have to go outside. She could hear the children howling, and it was clear that no one was taking care of the situation. She stumbled around the room, attempting to get dressed. She felt nauseous and hungry all at the same time and as she struggled into her pants she fought the urge to give up. Right now getting dressed really seemed like much more of a hassle than it was worth.

Michonne sat down on the bed halfway into her pants and tried to steady her breathing. Her head was pounding now to go with the rest of the aches and pains and she could still hear the wailing of the children that were shut in the nursery. She didn't know what time it was or how long she'd been sleeping past when she should have gotten up. She'd never heard Daryl get up, and usually she at least woke a little when he got up and got dressed.

Michonne pulled herself together and finished getting dressed. She made her way toward the nursery and took a deep breath before opening the door. Judith was the first that she noticed. She was no longer contained by her crib, so right now she was standing, leaning against the wall and knocking at it with one hand while she squeezed her duck in the other. She was squalling so much that she gagged at intervals. Hope was standing in her crib, holding onto the rail, and screaming with almost the same intensity as Judith. Paul was in the other crib writhing and howling.

Michonne pushed her way into the door, pushing Judith back when she tried to escape. She closed the door behind her. Judith grabbed onto her leg, wailing and requesting Carol over and over. Michonne didn't know what to do with her, so she picked her up and put her in the crib with Hope where the child had what appeared to be a tiny nervous breakdown.

Michonne turned to Paul. He was an easy baby to please. She could change him and feed him and at least be down one set of lungs protesting the situation. She collected him out of the crib and took him to the changing table. He didn't give up the fight the entire time she changed him, and he continued to wail while she was refastening his clothes. That, coupled with the screaming behind her from Hope's crib, was making her feel like screaming.

When she'd had both her girls, and it had simply been her responsible for everything in their lives, she'd walk away at times like this. She'd just put them in their cribs, leave the room for about ten minutes, and then she'd be able to handle it better. She didn't feel like she could leave all three of them any longer, though.

Michonne felt herself being overwhelmed. She wanted to cry right along with them, just like Judith, until she finally threw up and maybe then at least the nausea would pass. She picked the crying baby up and carried him over to the rocking chair. She sat down and pulled up her shirt, offering him a breast. At least for a moment one set of cries was hushed.

How many had they lost? Three? Four? She wasn't positive, but she thought that it had been four funerals they had the day before. Four people lost in one day. She had no idea how many were injured. She hadn't even asked how many were injured. And how many had they lost during the night? Sadie was likely dead. Was Carol dead? Who else was dead?

Michonne tried to drown out the sound of the girls with the thoughts in her head. What was she doing trapped in a room full of screaming children? How did this even happen? Judith wasn't her child. If Carol was dead, who did Judith belong to? Did she belong to Tyreese? Rick? And what about Paul? If Sadie was dead would Mark really take the baby?

When she'd lost her girls she had simply closed that chapter in her life. This wasn't a world for children. This wasn't even a world for adults. It was just a world of tragedy and cruel death, and somehow she had ended up pregnant with Hope and she'd accepted it. When Hope was coming, that was just it. There had been nothing to be done about it. She'd been an accident, but accident or not, she was coming. Somehow, somewhere along the way, she'd fooled herself into believing that she and Daryl would keep Hope safe. They'd build some kind of life for her and she'd be safe. They could do that. Michonne looked at her belly and another stream of nausea hit her. How had she let this happen? How had she been stupid enough to believe that anyone was safe? There wasn't any such thing as a safe place anymore, and she'd gone and done this? Losing two children hadn't been enough? She'd brought Hope into this world, and now she had what? Six weeks? Eight weeks? She was bringing another child into this world?

A knock at the door caught Michonne's attention and snatched her back into the reality around her. Paul was done eating and beginning to squirm. Hope had stopped wailing and was on her hands and knees in the crib, her face pressed against the bars, watching Michonne. Judith was still crying, probably thoroughly confused about her life.

Daryl opened the door a crack and stuck his head in. Michonne realized she was crying, she could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks and she didn't feel like she even knew what to do with the baby in her arms that probably thought he was going to blow up soon if she didn't move him to burp him.

"Ya OK, 'Chonne?" Daryl asked as he pushed into the nursery.

Michonne tried to think how many times she'd heard that question. How many times had she reassured Daryl that she was OK about one thing or another?

"I've done some really stupid things in my life," she said finally. Daryl looked at her, confused. He hesitated a moment near the door and then stepped further inside, lifting Judith out of the crib to try and calm her down.

"What'cha talkin' 'bout, 'Chonne?" Daryl asked.

"I think this is it, though," Michonne said, somewhat ignoring him. "This is the stupidest thing I've ever done."

"What is, 'Chonne?" Daryl asked. He turned his attention for a second to Judith. "Jude, ya gotta be quiet. We gonna feed ya an' I promise ya that ya gonna see ya parents, but ya gotta be quiet 'cause ya gonna make yourself sick."

Michonne watched him a minute and sighed, waking up a little from the stupor of her thoughts. She burped the baby she was holding, really not caring that he repaid her for her slowness by spitting up probably half of what he'd eaten down her chest. She chuckled at it a little. It was the end of the world. People died by the handful without warning. They were murdered by madmen, torn apart by drooling freaks…and here she was, covered in baby vomit.

"This is, Daryl. This whole thing. You, me, Hope…I'm supposed to have another baby, Daryl. What was I thinking? You could have been killed yesterday. People are dying like flies, Daryl, and I'm supposed to have a baby? This is the stupidest thing that I've ever done," Michonne said.

Daryl looked at her wide eyed, but he didn't respond immediately. He looked tired. His eyes were dark and Michonne wondered if he'd slept at all. His mouth fell open a little bit.

"OK, 'Chonne, I need ya to listen to me. Glenn, he ain't doin' so hot right now. We tryin' to keep him from killin' them guys we found that we think done this so we might can get 'em to talk to us. Maggie, she's havin' some sorta breakdown or somethin', that's what Mark said. I ain't even seen Rick today an' I don't know if Sadie's alive or dead. Tyreese ain't holdin' it all together real good, and I just need to know if ya havin' some kinda issue like they is, 'cause if ya is, that's OK, but I don't really know what to do about it right now," Daryl said.

Michonne looked at Daryl. As terrible as she felt right this minute, she felt sorry for him. She'd never seen him look like he did right this second. They had been hit before. The Governor had attacked them at the prison. He'd threatened the lives of all of them. Then, though, they'd known he was coming. They'd always known that the threat was real. It was something they kept tucked in the back of their minds the whole time. They'd let that threat go here, though. They'd taken out another group before it could threaten them. They'd built a life inside the fences of this community and for a moment they'd all believed they may have been invincible, and now they knew they weren't. They were anything but invincible.

Daryl's face clearly showed that he was no longer under any impression that they were safe, but he was looking at her like he needed something from her, and she didn't know what he needed and she didn't know that she had it to give.

"What are we going to do?" She asked, hearing her own voice break.

Daryl put Judith on the floor and came over to where Michonne was. He took the baby out of her arms and put him the crib that she'd gotten him out of earlier. Daryl leaned down in front of her.

"We gon' do what we been doin', 'Chonne. We gon' keep on going. We ain't broke," Daryl said. "We gon' find out who done this and they gonna pay for it and that's it. We ain't gonna lose everything we worked for and we sure ain't gonna give up and roll over."

"First it was the Governor, and now it's some people we don't even know, Daryl. There's always going to be someone out there trying to kill us," Michonne said.

"Hell, 'Chonne, they always been crazy people in the world and I reckon there's even more of 'em now. We got each other, though, and we got the group. We can't just give up. We got Hope, and we gonna have this baby, so we gotta keep on going for them. We ain't got time to just go crazy 'bout the fact that somethin' might happen," Daryl said. "Things look real bad right now, and they've looked real bad before, but they gonna look better."

Michonne knew he was right, but it was hard to imagine at this moment that she was going to go back to feeling like she had a few days ago, back to thinking that they might actually have some kind of life ahead of them. She nodded at him, though, realizing that they didn't have any other choice. They did have Hope, and Hope needed them. This baby was coming, whether she was ready for it or not, and there wasn't any changing that.

"You're right," she said. She wasn't wholly convinced, but she knew that sitting here feeling sorry for herself wasn't going to solve anything. There were things that had to be done, and they had to keep doing them as long as they were alive.

"Rachel and Libby, they done made breakfast. Let's go get somethin' to eat, OK?" Daryl said. "If ya feel up to it they gonna fix up another house, make us another headquarters. We almost got all the Walkers cleaned up now. We're gonna get things back as normal as we can and we're gonna make sure that whoever did this pays for it. I need you, though, 'Chonne, and Hope needs ya. If ya wanta cry, then go ahead and do it 'til ya feel better, but we gotta pull this group back together."

Michonne nodded again and reached her hands out to Daryl. He stood up and pulled her up. She went and plucked Paul back out of the crib. He was patiently waiting on her. Daryl didn't wait for her to ask, he gathered Hope up and took Judith's hand, leading her out of the nursery.

Michonne hoped that Daryl was right and that they could pull things back together. She didn't know who had done this, or why they had done it, but she hoped that they paid for it, and she hoped that somehow they could avoid things like this happening again.

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Rick woke up mainly because his left arm was killing him. It was completely dead on the one hand, but even though it was dead he was strangely aware of it being painful. He shifted a little, finally dragging it out from under him with his right arm. He opened his eyes and realized he was asleep on the floor, and then he realized he felt far too old to be sleeping on the floor.

Rick put his right arm down on his side before really opening his eyes. His arm touched something that he knew didn't belong to him and he opened his eyes then, blinking. He was staring directly into Sadie's stomach, and one of her legs was draped over him and draped over his waist. He sat up a little. For as bad as he felt, she was going to feel way worse.

Apparently their plan to stay up all night had not included the fact that neither of them was as young as they used to be and neither of them was spry enough to actually just sit on the floor and stay awake for an entire night, especially after the draining day they'd had before. Sadie had apparently fallen asleep against the wall and slid down it during the night. The result was that she was almost entirely on the floor with one shoulder and her head still slumped against the wall. Rick didn't remember falling asleep, but he was curled up beside her, and she'd wrapped her leg over him at some point.

The skin on her stomach was exposed, her sliding having obviously pulled her shirt up as she went. Rick reached and gently touched the skin there. It was cool from the bedroom air. There wasn't any fever and at least twenty four hours had passed. She wasn't Walker scratched. He thought to himself that it was a good thing too. If she'd turned during the night he would have most definitely been eaten because he'd failed at being a guard.

Rick left his fingers where they were a second, on the soft skin of her stomach. He turned back to look at her and was surprised that she was staring back at him now.

"No fever," he said. She nodded slightly and he became aware that he still had his hand on her. He moved it. "Sorry," he said. She didn't say anything.

Rick pulled himself up and slowly she shifted too, apologizing as she unwrapped her leg from around his body.

"I guess they shouldn't leave us on night watch together," Rick said, when they were both in the sitting position on the floor. Sadie rubbed at her neck.

"No, they shouldn't," she responded.

Rick didn't know what made him do it, but he leaned into her then and kissed her on the lips. He half expected her to pull away, but she didn't. She didn't exactly return the kiss, but she didn't stop him either. He pulled away, embarrassed that he'd done it. She just stared at him, though, not responding in any way.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know why I did that."

"I do," she said, "and it's OK." She sat there another minute and then started to get up. "I have to go and get Paul."

Rick nodded and pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the protests of his muscles. She was up before him, but he found his footing not long after.

"I guess I need to go and see what Daryl might need help with," Rick said.

"Thank you," Sadie said.

Rick felt like he didn't know quite how to respond to her thanks in the moment. He'd really done nothing more than stay the night with her. Nothing had happened. There hadn't been any sort of tragedy, even though they'd prepared themselves for one.

"You're welcome," he said after a second, not entirely convinced of his own words. Sadie surprised him, then by leaning up and pulling his head toward her. It was her, this time, that planted a kiss on his lips. He returned it, a little sorry when she broke away. As soon as she broke away, Sadie turned and started out of the bedroom. Rick stood there a moment, getting his bearings about him, and then he followed after her. He wasn't sure if they were going to talk about it, or if it meant anything, it could have simply been one of those things that people do when everything around them seems to be going crazy.

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Tyreese took his breakfast plate back to the bedroom where he'd been holding vigil over Carol. He sat down on the edge of the bed and started to eat, though he wasn't very hungry. Outside Michonne had been helping to hand out plates and Emma, Libby's little sister, had been watching the children. He'd had to nearly fight Judith to get her to let him go once she'd spotted him, but he'd finally convinced her that playing with the others was far more entertaining than clinging to him.

His daughter had been young when his wife had passed away and he knew that children had a difficult time with things like death. He didn't know if Judith was old enough to understand it, or how she might process it, but he didn't want to bring her into the room with Carol right now. Even the concept of "she's sleeping" could be hard to explain since she clearly wouldn't wake up as easily as she normally did when Judith simply pounced on her some mornings, giggling, because Tyreese had found her up before Carol.

Mark had been in there earlier. He'd said she was doing better. He'd said that her breathing sounded better and that he was optimistic about things. Those had been his words, but that hadn't been his facial expression, though Tyreese wasn't entirely sure if that was owing to the way that Mark felt about Carol or simply the way he felt about the entire situation.

Tyreese ate about as much of his breakfast as he could choke down. It wasn't appetizing and he simply didn't want it. He put the plate on the bedside table. There was a knock on the door and he called for whoever it was to come in. The door opened and Mark slipped inside.

"How is she?" Mark asked. "Any change?"

"None," Tyreese said. He slid over on the edge of the bed and reached up, untying her arms and bringing them down to rest at her sides. He only kept them tied when he had to leave or when he feared he was going to fall asleep, and right now neither was the case. He rubbed one of her arms between his hands, figuring that the circulation in them might not be the best from leaving her in that position.

Mark loomed over him a moment.

"I don't know if you heard, but Sadie's fine," Mark said. "The scratches were apparently human."

Tyreese nodded. He'd seen the woman downstairs talking to Michonne and figured that she was fine. If she wasn't it was taking her far longer to die from Walker attack than anyone he'd seen so far.

"Good for her," Tyreese said. Immediately he regretted saying it. He had nothing against the woman. In fact, she'd never been anything but kind to him and he knew that Carol was very fond of her. They belonged, it seemed at times, to some kind of club. The mothers who'd lost their children club or something to the like. That's what he always figured drew them together. Michonne was the same way. Carol talked about it sometimes, like they had some special way of understanding one another. He knew, though, that losing a child changed you, so he could only imagine that it might be even more dramatic for mothers. "I didn't mean that," Tyreese said after a moment. "I really am glad that she's OK."

"I get it," Mark said. "We all worry about our people, first and foremost. I brought something for Carol," Mark said. He held out his hand, showing Tyreese that he'd brought some kind of medicine in a syringe. "Pretty decent pain med," he said. "I have a theory that if we get the pain eased off some, she's going to come to."

"You really think it'll work?" Tyreese asked.

"Worth a try, right?" Mark said. "I do think it'll work. It might take a little bit for it to get into her blood stream, but I think she's likely to respond at least a little."

"What do you want me to do?" Tyreese asked.

"Just help me ease her over some so I can inject it. Be careful, though, we don't want to hurt her worse," Mark said.

Tyreese did as Mark instructed, crawling beside Carol and easing her body against his, as careful as he could be with her. When Mark had injected the medicine, he eased her back down into the position she was in before.

"Now what?" Tyreese asked.

"We wait," Mark said.

"I'm getting good at that," Tyreese said.

Mark hovered over him a moment longer.

"I don't have any other patients now," Mark said. "If you want to go and get some air, I can stay with her."

Tyreese shook his head.

"I'm not going to leave her. What if she wakes up and she just thinks that I didn't care enough to stay?" He asked.

"I wouldn't let her think that," Mark said. "You've been cooped up in here, though, and you haven't slept. At least go take a little walk and get your blood pumping. Go and see Judith. I'll stay with her. I promise that if she wakes up I'll come for you immediately."

Tyreese was reluctant to go, but finally he agreed. He decided he'd get Judith and maybe walk around with her a few minutes. The girl was obviously missing both of them, and he could at least give her a few minutes of attention. He stood up and took his plate from the nightstand.

"I'm not going far, I'll just be in the street outside," he said.

"I promise," Mark said. "I'll come and get you if anything changes."

Tyreese nodded at him and started outside.

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"Daryl!" Jimmy called, coming toward Daryl with Glenn a few steps behind him. Daryl was busy helping Beau move some of the final Walkers to one of the fires. "Them men are dead, we put 'em down."

Daryl helped Beau heave the body that they had onto the fire and then he wiped his hands on his pants and turned toward Glenn and Jimmy.

"How'd they die?" Daryl asked. He knew that Glenn had been anxious to kill them, as though that would help Maggie through what she was going through. Mark had been down to check on her and essentially declared her as suffering from shock, like he'd said about Michonne the night before, but Maggie's seemed to be different.

Michonne was holding herself together right now. She was quiet, that much was true, but she was helping to get a place set up for headquarters. Maggie had seemed to check out completely. Stella was sitting with her on the porch to the house she and Glenn lived in, but there was no evidence that Maggie was aware of anything around her. It had gotten to Glenn, and he'd seemed to decide that if he could kill the men that they suspected had orchestrated the attack, then he'd at least feel better.

Jimmy shrugged at Daryl's question.

"They just died, man, like they quit breathing," he said.

Daryl didn't push the boy too much. He was just as tired as everyone else and it was painted on his face. The fact that he'd been down there keeping Glenn from killing them was enough. Daryl couldn't hide, though, his disappointment at the fact that they weren't going to be able to question the men.

"Do ya think they was the only ones?" Daryl asked Jimmy. He really didn't expect the boy to answer. It wasn't a sincere question that he was expecting anyone to have an answer to. It was more something he'd been asking himself. No one had showed up since the attack. Beau, Libby, and Carl had kept watch all night and had reported nothing more than a small herd of Walkers that passed by at some point. It appeared that if the men had a group, the group either didn't know where they were or wasn't coming for them.

Jimmy shrugged again.

"They mighta been," he said. "If they were alone, though, there ain't no one left."

Daryl nodded his head.

"Where are they now?" He asked.

"Still where we left 'em," Jimmy said.

"We want to get a wheelbarrow and burn the assholes," Glenn spat.

Daryl shrugged.

"Go ahead. They aren't any good to us now, and we're sure as shit not digging holes to bury them," Daryl said.

"How's Maggie?" Glenn asked. Daryl saw him glance in the direction of the porch. He shrugged again.

"She ain't come off the porch since ya left," Daryl said. Glenn sighed and nodded his head in response. "I'm sure she's gonna be alright," Daryl said. "She's gonna come around. 'Chonne keeps goin' through some kinda spells. I reckon Maggie's is just worse." He didn't really know what to say to Glenn to make him feel better.

"Michonne didn't lose her sister," Glenn said. "I guess Maggie's is a lot worse."

Daryl nodded his head and clasped Glenn briefly on the shoulder. He wasn't going to take to heart anything that the boy said right now. None of them could really take to heart anything that anyone said or did. Everyone was still trying to figure out how to process everything that was going on, and Daryl supposed that meant they were all going to hit a lot of bumps in the road.

"We're going to burn those bodies now," Glenn said. Daryl nodded at him and watched as he turned and walked off with Jimmy sleepily walking by his side.