Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. The story I tell about Daryl and Beth is my own invention, and it is not purported, or believed, to be part of the Walking Dead story canon. It is for entertainment only and is not part of the official story line.

….

"The dream crossed twilight between birth and dying."
― T.S. Eliot

….

Chapter Twelve

Colt, now a pup that came to Daryl's knee, with shiny brown hair, and a lithe, muscular body shape, darted off into the woods. "Where is he going?" Beth asked, stopping for a second to listen for sounds of walkers. There weren't many left after the big freeze, but they were still around, and lately they'd seen a steady increase compared to the silence and tranquility of the dead of winter when the walkers were freezing to the ground.

"Caught the scent of sumthin'" Daryl said, stomping his cigarette butt out in the ground. They'd stopped for minute so Beth could catch her breath as they walked through the large field, in search of game.

"I don't like it when he runs off like that."

"You worry too much, woman. Smart dog, and he's fast." He hoisted the crossbow into the crook of his arm, and led the way in the direction Colt had gone, vanishing into the wood line.

Abraham caught up with them as they entered the woods. "That mutt of yours wandered off again?"

Daryl held up his fingers, and pointed into the forest, where a ray of light held a big buck standing before them. "Mutt just found your dinner." He whispered, kneeling down, to which they followed suit, concealing them behind a ridge. Daryl met Beth's eyes, and then he was quietly loading his crossbow. Beth felt something moist on her cheek.

"Colt," she whispered, welcoming the large pup with a hug. She held him in place by the scruff of the neck, watching – still utterly in awe with Daryl in his hunting moments – as he took aim toward the buck. Daryl fired, and the arrow penetrated the Bucks neck, coming through the other side. The majestic creature swayed for a moment, before his legs collapsed beneath him.

Abe let out a whoop, and Daryl gave a satisfactory grunt, reaching over to pet Colt, and meeting her eyes, seeing her smile, and touching her face for just a minute before he stood, and pulled her to her feet, briefly laying his warm hand on her round stomach. "Hope she's hungry for some venison."

Beth made a face. She'd been experiencing on-going morning sickness, but it wasn't only in the mornings. It could be triggered by smells, or even the mention of certain foods. It was strange all the things that she had to avoid now, unless she was willing to lose her lunch. Still, it had been at least a couple of weeks since she'd had anything but preserved meat, and the idea of a full meal made her mouth water. "I think we both are?" She said, smiling up at him, squinting as she stepped to into a small beam of sunlight.

"Is that a question or a statement?"

"Oh, you never know with me these days." She followed the men over to the carcass.

Abe laughed, "That's usually the way it is…"

His comment was out of character for Abe, it was the kind of statement that made her want to ask about his past. "How the hell would you know?" Daryl crouched down, and pulled his bolt out of the deer. He stood, walking over to a nearby tree, and extracting his knife from his belt, he cut off a low hanging branch.

He looked up, waiting for Abe's answer, as Beth was. Daryl always had a way of just coming right out and asking stuff, he wasn't a man of social eloquence, and she loved that about him. He was honest, through and through. "My wife was nine months pregnant, when it happened, that's how."

Beth gave a little gasp, before covering her mouth.

Daryl stopped carving the branch – she studied what he was doing and realized he was sharpening it. "Damn, brother, that's a shame." Daryl said, biting down on his bottom lip. He remained still for a moment longer, his eyes darting over to meet hers, and then he was back to work on his stick. After a minute of awkward silence, while Abe passed around his canteen of water, Daryl held the stick up, gave a satisfactory nod, and knelt back down by the head of the deer. He used his knife, cut a precise slit in the cartilage in the deer's nose, and then punched the branch threw it. He picked his crossbow up, slid it over his shoulder, so the weapon came to rest on his back, and took up both sides of the branch, bending it so both ends were squeezed together in his large hand.

"We gonna stand around here all day?" He asked, gesturing irritably at the two of them.

Beth led the way out of the woods, and toward the silo. Abe took up the rear. Daryl gave a disgusted grunt, and she felt herself smiling at him as he drug through the deer through the brush behind her, stomping his feet. It wasn't much later that he stopped to pick up a stick and throw it for Colt, and she knew his irritation at them had seeped away.

….

"Are we going to have a big dinner, Aunt Beth?" Thin arms wrapped around Beth's waist where she was standing at the counter, apron on, peeling tiny new potatoes they had grown themselves on the next level down.

"Hi Mika," Beth said, turning to hug the little blond girl, who rested her cheek against Beth's belly. Every since the day Beth brought Mika the doll, they'd been spending a lot of time together. Mika loved to listen to Beth sing, saying it reminded her of her own mama singing to her. Beth was teaching Mika some of her favorite gospel hymns. "Yes, Daryl got a buck today." She answered, with a smile. She released Mika and went back to work on the potatoes. "You want to help?"

Mika smiled and nodded her head up and down. "That's good," Beth said with a small sigh. She put and hand on her back and stretched a little, "Because I think I could use a break."

Mika climbed up on the stool Beth provided her, and began peeling the potatoes with expert precision, humming something Beth didn't recognize under her breath. Carol had taught the girl how to do pretty much anything that needed done in the kitchen.

Daryl and most of the other adults were in a council meeting, and Beth was feeling apprehensive about the decisions that were going to be made during the meeting. Would the group decide it was best to try and move south, find an island to live on and try to regain a little sliver of the lives they had before the infection? Then there was the trip to Washington DC. Daryl wanted Beth to stay behind at the silo, while he went with Abe – and several of the others from the original group – to DC. Beth adamantly refused to go along with such a plan. So now Daryl was trying to convince the council to postpone the trip until after Beth had the baby. Beth had mixed feelings about both possibilities. The thought of going weeks – possibly months – without seeing him, without knowing if he was okay or not, was overwhelming, but the alternative meant Beth traveling during her last trimester, and probably their child being born on the way. It didn't seem practical so she was pretty sure the council would vote to postpone the trip until the baby came.

For some time, Beth had been working up the nerve to have a private conversation with Maggie about the DC trip. She wanted to ask if Maggie would be willing to be an adoptive mother to her child while she was gone to Washington, maybe forever if they didn't make it back. But Maggie hadn't been herself in months, preoccupied and withdrawn. Beth was certain Maggie was still grieving for their father, but she wasn't talking to anyone about it. She and Glenn were arguing a lot, and some nights Beth would get up for a midnight snack and find Glenn sleeping on the couch in the common room.

Beth knew they would also be discussing her labor which was the reason that Eugene wasn't cooking, and was actually attending the meeting – a first for him. He usually provided all the necessary information prior to the meetings, but stayed out of them himself. Today, he was explaining to the group everything he would require to ensure a safe delivery of the child. Maggie and Carol would assist him in the delivery. They wanted to be prepared for any possible complications – especially if she needed a c-section – so they'd been gathering equipment to supplement what was already in the medical room. A month earlier they had procured an ultrasound machine from a doctor's office. Eugene was able to see that the baby was healthy, and in the proper position. He'd offered to tell her the sex of the baby, but she'd declined.

Now that the residential area had been set up down on the next level, Beth and Daryl had moved back into her old room, and they were preparing the room he used to sleep in to be a nursery for the baby. "I think I'm going to go lay down for a few minutes," Beth told Mika, stifling a yawn.

"Go ahead. I can finish these." Mika stated proudly.

Beth patted the girl's head, grateful for the child's willingness to help, and wandered back to her room. She couldn't resist peeking into the little nursery. The basinet Carl had retrieved back when they found the pups was already set up against the far wall. They'd found a baby store and Beth had chosen pale lemon yellow as the main color for the room. She walked over to the diaper changing table, and flipped the switch on the machine that reflected tiny stars around the room, and played a lullaby. Beth curled up on the glider and watched the stars dance around the room until she dozed off.

….

A wave of pain jolted Beth from sleep. She touched her belly and cringed. Beth had experienced some Braxton and Hicks contractions when she'd entered her seventh month, and she took a deep breath, hoping that was all it was. She had no idea how long she'd been cuddled in the chair, but her shirt was drenched in sweat. She stood – a little shakily – and waddled into the other room. She was reaching for a t-shirt out of the dresser to change into when another pain ripped through her stomach and she doubled over, her eyes watering up. As soon as the pain ended, Beth felt moisture on her inner thighs. She looked down and saw blood staining her pants. She started to panic.

Beth threw the shirt on and steadied herself against the wall, trying to make it to the door of the bedroom, but the next pain made it impossible to stand. She sat on the floor, and rocked back and forth, tears rolling down her cheeks.

She knew she had to get up, but she barely had time to recover from the pain when another one came on. If she didn't make it out of her bedroom, didn't tell someone what was happening, she and the baby would probably die. Daryl, she thought. And as if he had heard her silent call, the door opened, and Daryl strode in looking worriedly around the room. He saw her on the floor, rushed to her side, scooping her into his arms. "I think its happening." She managed to get out between the pains.

"Gonna be okay. We're ready." She heard him say, her cheek resting against his flannel shirt, absorbing his comforting warmth.

Beth shook her head, cringing against another wave of pain, and it was a minute before she could speak. "Too early," she got out.

Daryl carried her to the common room, and she saw people rushing around, upon seeing her in his arms, their facial features blurred through her tears. "Get Gene and get him the fuck down to medical. Now." She heard Daryl yell, as he breezed past them.

A pain so intense that it felt like her spine was roasting shot through Beth, and she screamed. She felt her consciousness fading, slowly slipping away. The edges of everything were tipped with foggy clouds. She knew she had to tell him, now before she passed out entirely. "Daryl" she whispered through clenched teeth, as he stepped onto the elevator. She sensed others with them, but couldn't figure out who they were.

"Shhh, baby, it's gonna be fine."

"Daryl," she almost screamed again through another pain, "Daryl you have to listen to me."

Through misty vision she saw his stark blue eyes set on her own, wild almost with concern. "I'm listenin' angel."

"If you have to make a choice, you save her. Okay? Promise me."

He shook his head sternly, his features transforming into something between disapproval and anger. "No fuckin' way."

"Daryl please," she begged. Even in her disoriented state she felt the familiar panic over the disturbing images she'd had as they replayed in her mind's eye. Waking up, no longer pregnant, and her baby gone. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes, and her chest ached at the thought that this could be her last moments with her living son or daughter. It was a vision Beth could not bear the thought of coming true. Better that she didn't wake up at all, than to outlive her own child. His child.

"Godammit, Beth, don't talk like that. I aint losin' either of you. Ever."

"Please," she whispered, and then the pain erupted like a volcano in her belly, and it was all she could do to keep from squirming out of his arms.

She wasn't sure if she imagined him repeating himself, but she heard the words, "I aint losin' either of you ever," as everything faded to black.

….

Voices echoed in her mind. How long had it been? "She's losing blood." Someone said.

"Is that IV up?"

"Yes."

"Morphine drip?"

"It's started."

"See. Here's the problem."

The voices faded again.

….

Beth was standing in a field of purple flowers, the sun sitting low in the sky, dancing off the blond waist high grass. A figure stepped into the light on a distant atoll, and – recognizing the man's shape - Beth's heart surged. She took off at a full run, "Daddy," she called, opening her arms for him.

Herschel held up a hand, palm out, giving her a warning look. "Don't touch me, Bethie."

"Why?" She cried, drawing to an abrupt stop, her arms craving to hug her father again.

He smiled lovingly, and held out his hands gesturing to a shimmering line on the ground between where they stood. "Because we exist in two different dimensions now, Beth. If you touch me, you might slip over to my side, and it isn't your time to come here yet."

"I have so much to tell you, daddy."

"I know," he said, before glancing down at the ground, and then back up at her, his eyes twinkling with a smile. "But not yet. You'll have plenty of time – a beautiful eternity – to tell me one day. Now you have to wake up."

Beth frowned, noticing heavy black clouds blotting out the sun behind her father. "Daddy?" She asked, as the edges of his form began to shine with light. "Daddy, don't leave."

"I'm sorry but I have to, sweetheart, because it's time for you to wake up."

"But…" she tried to walk toward him, but an invisible force clamping down on her, as if the hands of the dead had emerged from the earth and were holding her feet firmly in place.

"Wake up, and meet your son Bethie. You'll be such a good mother…" the words drifted off, as did the image of her father, crystallizing into a million tiny shimmering rainbow fragments, before they exploded into the sky above, like confetti, and then drifted away.

….

Beth blinked. "Wake up, angel." A voice was saying, a rough voice laced with sorrowful thickness. "Need you to wake up now."

The light was so bright that she closed her eyes again. She felt paralyzed, and there was a faraway feeling of pain, nothing like she'd felt earlier, but a whispered memory of it. She felt something large, and warm on her hand. More warm things were on her feet, softly stroking them. The touch was comforting, and she found herself fading back into groggy nothingness.

Then Beth remembered. The baby. She swallowed, and her heart ached. The warmth on her hands and feet were hands, she established. There should be another kind of warmth in her arms, the warmth of a tiny life but her chest was cold, and she felt empty inside. The only warmth she felt was not the right kind. My baby, she thought, and sorrow gripped her chest. "Daryl, look." A familiar female voice said.

Beth forced herself to blink again. A gruff voice answered, right next to her ear. "She's wakin' up. Beth, can you hear me?"

Beth raised her arm, trying to cover her eyes from the bright lights, and felt a strange tugging. She glanced at her right upper appendage, and saw it was hooked up to clear tubing. She looked left and her eyes beheld the most beautiful sight they had ever seen. Daryl, was standing over her, one hand was holding hers and there was a blanketed bundle crooked snuggly in his other arm.

Beth gasped, and fresh tears brimmed in her eyes. Daryl looked like an angel, like homecoming, like the promise of an eternity of tomorrows. "I want you to meet someone." He said, kneeling down. Beth opened her arms, ignoring the sting in her hand as she tugged on the IV needle. "Beth Dixon, meet your son." He said, placing the bundle in her arms.

Son? Beth thought, as she accepted the warm bundle in her arms. The only part of him that showed through the snuggly swaddled blanket was his face, and one tiny fist he had in his cherry red mouth. His skin was clean and pink, his chubby cheeks were red, and his bright eyes were the color of a robin's egg. He had a tuft of dark brown hair, and identical color to his fathers. "He's okay?" She asked, speaking for the first time, her voice hoarse.

Daryl nodded. She looked around the room. Maggie was standing at the foot of her bed, holding her feet. So she had been the one rubbing them. Her face was happy, tired but happy, for the first time in a long time. "I saw daddy," Beth told her.

Maggie gave her a confused look, and Beth saw her sister glance over at Daryl. Beth's eyes were drawn back down to the infant in her arms. She carefully unwrapped the swaddling, and inspected the tiny perfect dimpled hands, chubby little arms, a round belly and legs no wider than his daddy's fingers. "Gene says he's a little underweight. Six pounds one ounce, but otherwise he's healthy." Maggie told Beth.

"Probably shouldn't have got you out today." Daryl added, folding his arms across his chest and looking down at her.

"He's here, and he's healthy. That's all that matters. You couldn't have known she'd go into early labor." Maggie said, and Beth wasn't so loopy that she didn't raise an eyebrow at her sister. Maggie wasn't prone to comforting Daryl. Usually she was blaming him for everything. Beth watched her sister closely, and wondered if she was seeing a newfound respect in the way Maggie looked at Daryl.

"What happened?" Beth asked.

Maggie and Daryl both looked at her. Daryl nodded at Maggie, who inhaled deeply and said. "Eugene did a c-section. Daryl helped."

"You helped?" Beth croaked, half absorbed in the weight in her arms, and half in the conversation.

Daryl gave a little nod, biting his lip. "He took the baby out when I couldn't." Maggie asserted, her voice full of checked emotion. "He saved both of your lives."

Beth blinked back fresh tears. She looked up at her husband. "I love you." She told him, "thank you."

He shook his head, and looked uncomfortable. "Boy needs a name." He pointed out, his gaze falling on their little son, and softening.

"Well we aint callin' him asskicker two." Maggie joked.

Daryl shrugged and shifted from one foot to the other restlessly. "You choose," Beth told him, "You know the names I like."

He met her eyes. "Noah William?" Daryl said softly, and he reached down and stroked the boy's cheek, with such gentleness that Beth felt her heart swell. He'd chosen William because that had been her father's middle name. She had a brief memory of the dream she'd had about her daddy. She closed her eyes, feeling tears squeeze through, and said a silent thank you to her daddy for sending her back, for telling her to wake up.

"Noah William Dixon." Beth agreed, covering the baby with the blanket.

"Oh Lord, another Dixon," Maggie teased. Daryl tensed, but Maggie continued, a smile on her face. "But it's a good, strong name."

Daryl ignored Maggie, and knelt over the baby, planting a kiss on Beth's forehead. "He's probably hungry." He noted, glancing up at Maggie.

"That's my cue," Maggie said, "but I'll be back soon to hold my nephew. Daryl's hogged him this whole time."

….

"Early ambulation is very helpful in terms of promoting healing," Gene reassured them. "She should walk. No need to use the stretcher."

"No. I'll carry her." Daryl growled, stubbornly sticking to his reluctance for Beth to make the trip – on her own two feet – to their rooms upstairs. "Ya just cut her open two days ago."

Eugene rolled his eyes. "Is he always right?" He asked Beth. She bit her lip, trying not to giggle.

"I'll walk. You hold Noah." She said, waving off Daryl's movement to stop her. "Gene's right. I want to heal fast. I'm missing training, and I want to be in shape for the trip. It'll be okay, silly." She told Daryl, holding the baby up for him to take.

Never refusing an opportunity to hold his son, Daryl gently took the boy and cradled him in his leather jacketed sleeve, then reached down and slid his other arm under her shoulders, and helped her gently out of the bed. "Just hold on to me, 'till you're steady." At first the feeling of her feet touching the floor for the first time in three days was wondrous, but then she tried to hold her weight, and collapsed, Daryl the only thing holding her upright.

"It feels like my ab muscles are gone!" She told Eugene who helped Daryl lower her into a wheelchair.

"That's partly the morphine still in your system, and partly because you haven't used them for three days."

It was a slow procession to the elevator, and then up to the main floor, with Daryl pushing her with one hand, and holding Noah with the other. The smell when she stepped into the hallway was delicious. "What is that?" She asked, inhaling deeply through her nose.

"Chocolate cake," Tara called from the kitchen. "We thought we could have a little birthday celebration for…ohhh" she had turned around mid-sentence, and saw Daryl holding the baby. "Can I hold him? I haven't held him yet."

"Me first," Rosita insisted, emerging from behind a magazine in one of the overstuffed chairs.

Best felt Daryl's whole body tense up. "Aint good t' pass a baby around the first few days. Bad for the immune system."

Both girls groaned in displeasure. "Maggie said you were hoggin' him." Tara pointed out, turning back to the kitchen counter. Beth laughed at Daryl's obvious discomfort.

"Aint gonna hurt to let them hold him for a minute." She told him, entertained by his over protectiveness. "Besides we passed Judith around constantly, and she was the healthiest baby ever."

Daryl sighed wearily, and helped Beth over to her favorite chair. Once he ensured she was comfortable, he wrapped both arms around Noah, and strode – almost cautiously – over to Rosi. "He's gonna be hungry soon."

Rosita rolled her eyes at Daryl, taking the baby and sitting down across from Beth. "Oh my god he looks like his father. "

Tara came over to stand behind Rosi's chair. "But he's got Beth's nose, and her mouth I think."

Beth's chest swelled with pride. "He gained a pound while we were down there."

"A healthy boy."

Daryl leaned down on the arm of Beth's chair, placing his hand on the back of her neck. "'its cause he's breast feedin.'" He explained.

"Daryl, I would have never pegged you as being a supporter of breast feeding."

"Why? It's the best thing for him, aint it?"

"It sure is, but it's pretty damn painful too," Beth complained. Just talking about it was making her breasts ache. "Better pass him to Tara, Rose, it's getting to be dinner time."

Rosita laughed as Beth adjusted in her seat. "So, Daryl tells me we leave for DC in six weeks." Beth said, not wanting to be that new mom who talks constantly about her baby and nothing else.

Rosita handed Tara the baby, and looked sharply at Beth. "We?"

Beth frowned. "Um, yeah."

"You're coming with us?"

"Of course I am." Beth said, cocking her head.

"What about the baby?"

Beth swallowed, and she felt Daryl squeeze the back of her neck ever so slightly. "We're leaving him with Maggie. She'll take good care of him."

Rosita shook her head, leaning forward, and putting both forearms on her knees. "Are you sure you want to do that? Aren't there enough orphans around here already?"

"We made you a promise." Beth said, watching Tara rock back and forth with little Noah in her arms.

Rosita smiled. "We don't need you, Beth. Just him." She nodded at Daryl.

"Well he isn't going without me." Beth said, looking up at Daryl also, "Right?"

Daryl bit his lip, playing with her hair and avoiding her eyes. "Daryl?" She said, reaching up to touch his other hand which was resting in his lap.

"She has a point. Don't seem right to leave him. Don't know for sure what happens out there."

Beth felt a surge of anger something akin to the old rages she used to get over the Governor. She grabbed the arm of the couch and pushed herself out of the chair, grimacing at the soreness in her abdomen. Daryl tried to help her and she shooed his hand away. With one last glare at Rosi and Daryl, Beth slowly made her way out of the room, feeling their eyes on her, but unwilling to turn and look at them.

….

After she got over her anger at Daryl, and realized she was going to have plenty of time to argue the point about her going or not going to DC, Beth spent two blissful days with both her boys in bed.

They got to the point where she would lay on her side, with Daryl spooning her propped up on an elbow so they could both watch Noah, who loved to curl up and snuggle next to Beth's stomach, sleep. When it was time for the baby to eat, Daryl would reach around and rub the babies back as he nursed. Beth sang him songs, and the three of them would doze for an hour or two here and there, on and off. Occasionally someone would bring a tray of food for the two adults, and hold the baby on the couch, while they ate.

Noah rarely cried because both of his parents were right there to service his needs at the first sign that he had them. Eugene checked on Beth twice a day, and they had a few visitors but for the most part the rest of the silo respected their privacy, and their choice to bond with their son alone for the first few days.

"Think if ya sing t' him, he'll pass out." Daryl suggested. Noah's tiny right hand was curled around Daryl's large index finger.

"You just want me to sing you to sleep again."

He smiled, and put an arm up under his head, careful not to stir the drowsy baby lying between them. "Naw, it's for him, go on." He told her, looking up at the ceiling and closing his eyes.

"Sure…" she said, drawing out the word. "Hmm…how about a lullaby."

"Whatever. It all sounds good to me…I mean him." Daryl said, his voice heavy with sleepiness.

She laughed.

The song came to her as they always did – instantly and without any thought put into it - except this was one she hadn't sang in a long time. She wished she had thought to sing it to Noah while she was pregnant with him, as she had so many other songs.

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake, you'll have cake,

And all the pretty little horses.

Blacks and bays, dapples and greys,

Coach and six-a-little horses,

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake, you'll have cake,

And all the pretty little horses.

She stopped, and Daryl sat up – alert- as they heard boots coming down the hallway outside their room, and someone stopped in front of the door and knocked quietly. The baby twitched in his sleep, and started fussing. "What the hell?" Daryl said, climbing off the bed fully clothed. He went over to the door, and wrenched it open, obviously ready to spew a fountain of explicatives at the person who dared to interrupt them so loudly – knowing a baby was within – but she never heard the cussing start.

Daryl stepped back, holding the door open and Rick entered the room, holding his hat in his hands, an assault rifle slung over his shoulder, and his handgun in the holster at his waist. His beard was full still, and he managed a weak smile at Beth before he looked down at his hat again. "I hate to interrupt you." He said, looking up at Daryl, "But we've got a problem."

Daryl nodded and went to the closet, retrieving his crossbow. "What is it, Rick?" Beth whispered, leaning up in bed.

Rick attempted to smile reassuringly at her again, but she knew him well enough to see that he was troubled. "Tyreese was on watch upstairs. Came down to tell me we got our first herd coming through above. "

"So the fuck what?" Daryl said, strapping on his belt. "We stay tucked down here and they'll pass right by us in a day or two."

Rick shook his head, "Got people up there, on a run."

Beth's heart thumped in her chest. If their people, whoever was up there, tried to come back to the silo when a herd was traveling through, they could be overrun. "Who?" She asked, her voice cracking, and her palms tingling.

Rick shifted his weight, and gave her meaningful look. "Sasha, Glenn, Carl, Maggie and Rosita."

"Where were they headed?" Daryl asked.

"They were going to clear the rest of that ammo out of the gun-shop before someone else got their hands on it."

Beth felt like she might pass out. "Don't go gettin' all stressed. He can feel that," Daryl said, coming to stand over the bed, and carefully stroking his son's downy brown hair. "Our people are smart, they're armed, they'll be fine. We going to clear a path?" He asked, turning to Rick.

Rick acknowledged Daryl's question with a half-hearted nod. Beth had the sneaking suspicion that Rick wasn't telling them something, or maybe he was waiting to tell Daryl when they were out of the room.

"I'll be back in a little bit. Don' worry too much, all right?" He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers, before bending even further to kiss Noah's forehead.

"I love you," she told him, "come back to me in one piece."

He stood straight and his eyes lingered on hers for a full fifteen seconds before he spoke. "I'll take the next watch with him when I get back so you can get some sleep," he offered, but the look said something else. It said, I love you too.

….

She woke to the sound of Noah crying. It was a sound she was strangely unfamiliar with since he did it so rarely. "There, there," she comforted, getting the little guy into feeding position. He latched on happily, and his bright eyes opened, and she felt like he was trying to focus on her face. "Hi, little man," she whispered, wiping a little drip of milk off his cheek.

Beth laid back and let Noah nurse, wondering how long Daryl had been gone. The lights were on in the room which meant it was before ten p.m. when they almost always turned the generators off. After seven minutes or so went by she switched Noah to the other side, and felt her eyes getting heavy. This was usually the point where she fell asleep, knowing the baby would do the same when he was full. But something was tugging at the back of the Beth's mind, and her pulse was speeding up thinking about it. Rick was obviously hiding something earlier. Was there more danger than he was letting on? She decided it was worth getting up to talk to anyone who was awake and see if she could find out anything else about what was happening on the surface.

Once Noah fell back asleep she carried him to his basinet and tucked him inside, covering him with a blanket. It was the first time she'd put him in the baby bed, and she had to stand there for a minute, and watch him sleep peacefully, his chubby fists cuddled to his face.

Beth reluctantly drew away from her sleeping son, and went back into her adjourning room, grabbing a robe, and remembering to stop and run a brush through her hair. She grabbed the baby monitor, ensured it was working properly, then left her bedroom, keeping the door slightly ajar, and puttered down the hall, toward the common room.

Walking still felt odd to Beth. Though she was able to hold her own weight up – after practicing a little the last couple days – she was still very unsteady, and it still felt there was an empty chasm where her abdominal muscles should be. The pain was minimal, and reminded her a little of the soreness she felt the day after a really intense work-out. She realized, as she rounded the bend to the common room, that walking was actually making her muscles feel better, almost as if her body needed to work through the pain. Carol, two women that they had rescued from Terminus, and Mika were sitting in the living room. Tara and Eugene were in the kitchen. Gene looked up at Beth as she slowly made her way into the living room, running her hand along the natural stone jutting out of the silo wall to help balance. "Well look who is up and around," Tara said, wiping her hands on her apron and rushing over to help Beth to a chair. "The baby must be sleeping."

Beth held up the monitor. "I'll be listening for him. How long has Rick's party been out?"

Tara made a strange face, and Beth noticed her look up and meet Carol's eyes. Carol's conversation with the other women in the room had drawn to a close when Beth sat down. She smiled at the older woman, feeling the usual warm affection she always felt for Carol, but also the woman's sense of self-preservation which gave her a bit of an edge.

Tara made a show of looking at her watch, and her eyes looked a little unsure. "What's going on?" Beth demanded.

Eugene came into the living room. "They've been gone two hours two long. Tyreese radioed down an hour ago, said he was going to look for them. That's the last we heard."

Beth felt a strange mixture of adrenaline, and fear coursing through her veins. "Somethin' aint right then," she said, "Who do we have left down here?"

Carol shrugged. "You're looking at us."

Beth swallowed. "And no one's up on watch?"

"I'm sure everything's fine," Carol said, smiling down at Mika who was coloring.

Beth looked up at Gene, a silent question in her eyes. Gene gave a little nod. "The likelihood that they have encountered a problem is very high, especially with no report back from Tyreese. I recommend we send out a rescue party."

Tara crossed her arms over her chest, and Carol leaned back in the couch. "Let's give them one more hour. I mean, who can go, Eugene? Abraham would have our hides if you went."

"I'll go," Tara said.

Carol smiled. "Not by yourself."

"You'll come with me then, and you two." Tara said, waving at Angela and Katelyn – blond sisters who were recovered out of the same box-car as Carol. They were twins, eighteen years old.

Carol opened her mouth up to speak, but Beth spoke first. "Carol will stay with Mika, Judith and Noah. I'll go with you."

"Impossible," Eugene argued, "You just had a c-section five days ago, Beth."

"Besides," Carol added, "I'd rather deal with Abe over sending Gene here. Daryl would probably kill us all."

"I think you all are making the mistake of thinking you have anything to say about what I do or don't do. I'm an adult, a married woman, and I'll do as I damn well please. "Beth told them, forcing herself to stand without using the chair as support. She turned to Tara, "Be ready in fifty five minutes." She left the room, able to move faster and steadier now because of the surges of adrenaline rushing through her. She refused to lose Daryl, or to sit for hours waiting, and not knowing. There was a knock at her door, and she went to it. Eugene was standing in the hallway with a box tucked under his arm, and a crooked smile on his face.

….

Twenty five minutes later, Beth was wearing the reinforced abdominal support Eugene had requested Rosi pick up on one of the recent runs. The gear made her feel like she had a midsection again. The morphine needles and vials he had given her would allow her to search for the others without being in pain. He showed her – with the first injection – how little of a dose she should take to still be able to function, and told her how to time the injections apart.

They were loading her supplies in a backpack when Noah started fussing. "Oh shit," Beth said, unconciounsly touching her swollen breasts. Carol stepped into the room.

"I heard him crying on the monitor." The short-haired woman gave Beth a warm smile. She was holding a box wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper. She saw Beth looking curiously at the box. "Oh this. Yes, this was supposed to be your shower present, but you had him early. I thought you could use it at a time like this. Daryl actually picked it up for me. Beth," she said, coming to stand next to Beth. "I'm sorry, I sometimes still remember you as scrawny little Beth Greene singing songs, and writing in a journal. You are a grown woman, and part of being grown is making your own choices. May I?" She asked, pointing toward Noah's door.

Beth smiled, "Thanks, Carol." She said, accepting the present the woman handed her on the way to the nursery. Beth ripped open the package – secretly thrilled it had been so long since she'd opened a real present – and laughed. It was a breast pump, bottles, and pads. She squeezed the box to her chest and excused herself into the bathroom, where she spent twenty minutes trying to figure out how to pump, and then pumping seven bottles – what she hoped would be enough. She knew Eugene had stocked baby formula in the kitchen, but she hoped they wouldn't have to use it. Not this soon. Daryl wouldn't be pleased.

Who I am kidding, she thought, look what I'm getting ready to do? Daryl is going to be so pissed.

While Eugene, Mika, and Carol fussed over Noah, Beth took her katana out of the case above the bookshelf, where she kept it when she wasn't using it regularly. She was worried the blade would feel foreign to her after getting very little use over the last few months, but instead she felt as if the sword was a part of herself that she'd been terribly missing all along. She slid it into place, and fished her gun and holster out of the dresser drawer. Her belt didn't fit around her waist, even with the ab support, so she tucked her gun into the back of her pants, and went over to the couch, kneeling in front of Carol who held Noah in her lap, trying not to look like the motion hurt. She leaned in and kissed her baby's forehead, rubbing her cheek softly against his soft brown hair. "I love you, Noah." She whispered.

Beth pulled something out of her vest pocket and handed it to Carol. "What's this?" The older woman asked.

"It's a letter I wrote to him for if anything ever happens to me. With the trip to DC coming up, I just wanted him to know…in case…"

Carol nodded, sliding the letter into her apron pocket. "I understand completely. Come back safe, Beth."

"I will."

Beth felt unexpected warmth wetness on her eyelids as she straightened, cringing a little from a slight twitch of pain, and walked away from her son. She prayed she was making the right choice.

Beth knew, though, that she couldn't live in a world without Daryl Dixon. If the tables were turned, she knew he would come looking for her. That was what they did for each other, it was how a marriage worked these days. You relied on your partner for so much more than as a bread-winner, or someone to play catch with the kids. Beth relied on Daryl to survive, to live, and he was going to have to rely on her as well, whether he liked it or not.

Beth joined Tara, Angela, and Katelyn, all fully armed, at the door to the stairwell. "Everyone ready?" She asked, casually leaning against the wall so she didn't look like she was using it to steady herself.

"I brought grenades," Angela said, gesturing to her backpack.

Beth smiled. "Great. Those may come in handy."

They entered the stairwell, and Beth began her most painful ascent to the top ever.

….

A/N: I have to apologize because my usual betareader is in Australia right now and couldn't pre-read this for me. So, as a last resort, I edited this chapter myself. Hope you still were able to enjoy. Would love to hear any feedback.