AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!

111

"You set snares pretty far out here, Daryl," Lydia said.

Dog ran ahead of them. He'd circle back in a moment. He loved Wyoming, it seemed, as much as everyone else did. He loved the smells and the wide-open spaces. Maybe, too, he loved the absence of Walkers as much as they did. All of the Walkers, it seemed, that must have once been there—their once-presence evidenced by various things they encountered from time to time—had either moved on or had rotted away until they were little more than piles of decay. They still saw a few active and robust Walkers at times, but Daryl couldn't say they were exactly swarming any longer. More than saying "watch out," these days, they were saying "watch your step."

"I bring your ass out here for some quality father-daughter time and all the hell you can do is criticize," Daryl said. He swallowed back his amusement. Lydia's own teasing shown on her features. "Is it—'cause you'd rather be out here clearin' snares with your lil' boyfriend?"

Her cheeks immediately ran red. She turned her head, purposefully hiding her face from Daryl a little, and Daryl laughed to himself and turned his own head. He stepped ahead toward a small thicket of scrubby little bushes all growing together in a clump, and he put his sack down carefully. There were several rabbits in the bag already. Daryl knew that travelling together in a sack wasn't the most comfortable thing for the creatures, and he didn't want to increase their discomfort by tossing them around too much. He'd make up their suffering to them when he got them back to their little homestead and set them loose in the rabbit pens that he'd built for them.

Daryl knew right where he'd left his snares because he'd put a lot of careful thought into their placement and, so far, that had paid off. Each time he'd visited all of his spots, he'd come up with at least one rabbit to add to their growing collection.

Daryl was pleased to see that this snare gave results, too. Dropping to his knees, he put on the leather gloves that allowed him to handle the scared rabbits without suffering quite as much proof of their dislike of this practice.

"Call Dog off," Daryl said, holding up his arm as Dog came over to investigate. If he were hunting, Dog was pretty good as a retriever. He liked jobs, and he loved being given the responsibility of carrying things for Daryl. Daryl wasn't hunting, though, and he didn't need Dog's help with trying to delicately handle live rabbits.

Lydia clicked her tongue and called Dog, finally reaching and catching the heavy canvas collar they'd found for him. Dog didn't require too much suggestion to go with her, especially after Daryl barked at him to back off the rabbits.

"Boy or girl?" Lydia asked after Daryl tucked the rabbit in the bag and managed to get it closed tightly enough that none of their long-legged friends could escape.

"It was male," Daryl said, tucking his gloves back in his belt, wiping off his knees, and standing up. "Snare's reset—maybe it'll be a female we're pullin' outta here in a few days."

"Will we keep him?" Lydia asked. "Or eat him?"

She released Dog and he went sniffing around the area where the snare was set, making sure there was nothing there he needed to pick up for Daryl. Daryl watched him to make sure he didn't catch himself in the snare.

This was, Daryl figured, as good a place as any to have the conversation with Lydia that he'd dragged her out here to have—though she believed that they were only out here to clear the snares and stock their rabbit pens.

"We'll see what we got," Daryl said. "Check the stock when we get back."

"If there are too many boys," Lydia said, letting it hang.

"Then, we'll eat him," Daryl said. He had figured this project would lead into the conversation that he wanted to have, naturally, and that's why he'd chosen to do it this way. That was why, after breakfast, he'd kissed Carol and left her to relaxing with a book, and he'd asked Lydia to come with him, alone, for a little father-daughter time while he cleared the snares—a job that couldn't really wait for relaxation days because the rabbits caught in the snares would suffer if they were left there too long, not to mention that it was cruel to leave them so vulnerable to predators for a long time.

Daryl lit a cigarette, and Lydia crossed her arms across her chest in a relaxed sort of way, accepting that they were stopping for at least a few minutes.

"You know why we eat him if we got enough males or—he ain't the best one we got?" Daryl asked.

Lydia half-shrugged and nodded.

"He's not necessary," she said. "One male is good enough for all the females, especially if we're just raising them to eat them. Food—not pets. Right?"

"Right," Daryl confirmed. "At the end of the world, it's the women who keep the species goin'. One man'll do for a whole assload of women."

"Not if they're married," Lydia said.

Daryl hummed.

"I'm talkin' about survival," Daryl said. "Pure instinct to keep the species from dyin'. Marriage and monogamy, dedication to family units an' all—that's all good, but it comes from a different place."

"I like that place," Lydia said.

Daryl smiled.

"Yeah," he said. "Me, too. But—the rabbits don't give a shit. A buck'll mate any doe he can." Daryl smoked his cigarette a moment. Silence settled between them, but it was comfortable silence. It was the kind that didn't need to be filled. Dog snuffed around, nose to the ground, looking for a trail he could follow. "Lydia—you know all about the birds and the bees bullshit, don't you?"

"Birds and bees…?" Lydia asked.

Daryl decided it was best to avoid idioms.

"Men, women…babies," Daryl said. "You know—what happens and…how the hell it happens."

Lydia's cheeks colored again, and she laughed nervously.

"I know about sex, Daddy," Lydia said. It had been her idea to try out titles that she wanted to use, and Daryl could hear that, despite her desire to use them, they still stuck in her mouth like peanut butter. Hearing them, as well, still gave him a jolt. "And—if I didn't? I would've asked about it by now. You and…and Mama? You aren't exactly quiet, you know."

Daryl felt his own face grow warm. He'd prepared for this, really. He'd told himself, before they started out here, that they were both likely to be embarrassed any number of times. There was nothing, really, to be embarrassed about—everything that he intended for them to discuss was completely normal—but it was still embarrassing all the same.

"We don't feel no need to hide it," Daryl said. "We been hidin' our feelings for each other a long time."

"I don't mind," Lydia assured him. "I like it, really."

Daryl lit another cigarette, feeling like he needed it for his hands, if nothing else. He'd go through half a bag, if he had to, just to get through what he had to say.

"You like it? Listenin' to us?"

"No!" Lydia said, laughing and covering her face. "I mean—just the—knowing you mean it, I guess. Shit, Daryl—I don't know…"

Daryl could see that, suddenly, she was near tears with her embarrassment.

"Yeah, OK—it's OK," Daryl said. "I get it. Dog—stop nosin' around them damn rabbits! Son of a bitch!"

Dog looked at him, snorted, and left the wriggling bag of rabbits alone. Daryl realized they were going to have to get the rabbits back home soon and get them out of the bag, but he wasn't going back until he'd managed to talk to Lydia—to really talk to her.

"Listen—I gotta come right out an' say some shit," Daryl said. "OK?"

"Is everything OK?" Lydia asked, tensing visibly.

"Fine…" Daryl said.

"You and Carol—Mama—do still mean it…don't you?" Lydia asked.

Daryl felt his stomach turn nearly wrong-side-outward.

"Yeah," he assured her. "Yeah—hell, yeah—we still mean all that shit. Every last bit of it. That's what I wanna talk to you about. I mean, it ain't what I want to talk to you about, but…it's what I do wanna talk to you about…"

"Daddy…?" Lydia said. The word didn't stick in her mouth as much this time, but it did strike Daryl. It was enough to stop him from the spiral that he'd started for himself. He nodded, understanding her message without her needing to say more.

"I don't know how the hell to say what I gotta say, Lydia," he admitted.

"Just say it," she said. "Then, maybe we can both stop worrying."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"You're smart as shit, you know that?" Daryl said. Lydia shook her head. "Well—you are. And you're—you're a hell of a lot of other things, too. I brought you out here to talk to you about Carol…your ma."

"Is she OK?" Lydia asked.

"She's fine," Daryl said. "At least—I think she's fine. She's fine…just…she's got a lot goin' on right now."

"A lot going on?" Lydia echoed. Daryl excused her echoing, and didn't tease her about there being an echo out here in the wide-open because he understood that she was trying to process something without even knowing exactly what she was processing.

"She's been through a hell of a lot, Lydia," Daryl said. "More'n any damn body ought to have to go through." Lydia nodded her understanding.

"I know," she said.

"Before we left—there were times I was scared she was just gonna give up. You know? Just—stop. Because she couldn't handle it no more. And, really, who the hell coulda blamed her? But—I couldn't stand the thought of losin' her. That's why the hell I knew we had to go, you know? Why I knew we had to come out here. Get her some fresh air. Let her figure out who the hell she was when there weren't nobody with expectations of her that was based on who the hell she used to be. She's shared damn near everything about herself—more'n I ever woulda thought she would—but she's done it on her terms. That's all the hell I really wanted for her, you know? Let her get out here…even when I didn't know where the hell here would be…and let her just do shit on her terms."

"I know," Lydia agreed.

"I still wanna let her do shit on her terms," Daryl said. "But—I also think that she needs a little help behind the scenes. If not help, because she'd hate the hell out of me sayin' that, at least…support."

"Daryl—Daddy—what's going on?" Lydia asked.

"There are probably better ways to tell you," Daryl said, "but I don't know any of 'em. Carol's pregnant."

Daryl thought Lydia went a little pale, but he gave her a moment to absorb the knowledge that he'd come to slowly and not without a bit of rejection.

"Pregnant?" Lydia asked, finally.

"Means she's gonna have a baby," Daryl said. "If—everything goes alright and all."

"I know what it means, but…" Lydia said. "Is she OK?"

Daryl shrugged his shoulders.

"My knee-jerk answer is to say she's fine," Daryl said. "Seems to be healthy enough, though Alice ain't really looked her over. She's eatin' OK. Tired as hell, you can tell, but Al says that's pretty regular and all. Expected, really. She's doin' a lot, like the rest of us, and she's makin' a whole fuckin' human on top of all that. She's allowed to sigh and wanna spend her free time takin' cat naps." He hummed. "That's my answer because that's what I want it to be—she's fine. On the other hand, though, there's a hell of a lot of trauma that we can't just overlook. Losin' Sophia…Mika…Lizzie…Henry," Daryl said, counting off on his fingers, "and knowin' how they were all lost? We figure the trauma is about four feet deep right about now. That's prob'ly why she ain't been ready to say nothin' about it."

"You think she doesn't know?" Lydia asked.

"Or she ain't ready to acknowledge it," Daryl said. "Maybe she's gotta come to terms with some shit, you know? Either way—I want her to do it on her terms. She could use a little help, though. Quiet help. Just little shit like…lookin' out for her."

Lydia smiled at him.

"I could do that," she said.

"We all can," Daryl said. "Besides that—I'ma start getting some things ready in the meantime. There's plenty of room in the other houses to store some shit. Got them barns and that lil' shop, too. I figure, while we're out lookin' for things, wouldn't hurt to put away anything we might need later. We can move it in and hide it while she ain't lookin'."

"I can help," Lydia assured him. He smiled at her.

"I figured you could. Figured you could keep a secret, too, until she's ready to come out with it." Lydia nodded at him—a confirmation of her ability to keep a secret and her intention to do so.

"Do you think she's gonna wait long?" Lydia asked, as Daryl leaned over and gathered up the bag full of very unhappy rabbits. He shifted and put the weight of it over his shoulder.

"I don't know," he said. "I'ma try to nudge her along. Gentle and easy. In the meantime, though, don't nobody else do no nudgin', OK?"

"Who else knows?" Lydia asked.

"Mel and Alice were gonna handle the rest, so…by now? Everybody except Dog, maybe," Daryl said. "Though, I'm figurin' he might have had more idea than all the rest of us. Maybe he can smell it or somethin' like that."

"Are you excited?" Lydia asked as they headed back toward their home.

"Yeah," Daryl said. His pulse kicked up fast, hard, and suddenly—he hadn't realized he was excited until he said it. "Yeah. I guess I am. Didn't really think about it before, but I am…I have to admit, I didn't expect anything like this. So, I guess I'm more excited to do this with her than I am about anything else."

"Even if she isn't talking about it?" Lydia asked.

"She needs her time," Daryl said. "And she can have it. Like I said, I'ma start nudgin' her. But—gentle like. Easy. Not hard enough to scare her."

Lydia smiled at the thought.

"You want a boy or a girl?" She asked. Daryl thought about it and his stomach tightened. He knew that was a question that was asked an answered throughout the ages.

"Might sound stereotypical," Daryl said, "but this is the truest damn answer I got—I don't give a single shit, not as long as it's the healthiest little asshole that was ever born."

He meant it, too. He wanted that for himself but, more than anything, he wanted that for Carol. He wanted everything for Carol.

"That's why we gotta take the best care of her we possibly can," Daryl added after a moment. Lydia smiled at him again.

"Don't worry," she assured him. "We will."