Late that night, in the wee hours of the early morning, Carol and Daryl were laying in bed together and she found that she was still on cloud nine from the news they'd gotten earlier at the doctor. She tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Not from the restless longing that kept her up so often before that stemmed from trying so hard to conceive a child and failing for the millionth time, but from the sheer joy and excitement of knowing that their prayers had been answered. Knowing that they'd been given what they hoped so desperately for, and then some.

She rolled onto her side, wrapping her arms around her husband, spooning him from behind. She kissed the tattoo on his shoulder blade and nuzzled her head against his bare skin. "Are you awake?" She whispered, not wanting to drive him out of his slumber if he'd fallen asleep.

He moved his hand over hers and murmured, "Mhm. Ya feel sick or something?"

"No. Not at all. In fact, I feel better than I have in weeks. I just still can't believe this is all real."

He rolled over, swapping their positions so that now she was the little spoon and he was the big spoon. He let both hands fall over her belly and he kissed her temple. "Neither can I," he mumbled, his voice still sleep laden.

"Do you want me to stop talking so you can go back to sleep?"

"No, it's fine. Keep on talking. I'm listening."

She smiled, assuming he'd drift back off to dream land within minutes, but feeling chatty and jittery, she took him up on his offer to keep the conversation going. "I know we've been talking about this all day and we're both over the moon about it. I just, I don't know, I sorta feel like I'm scared to go to sleep, because if I wake up this is all gonna be some dream."

"Nuh uh," he mumbled, trailing kisses from her jawline to her neck. "Ya ain't gotta worry about that. This ain't no dream, sweetheart. There's two beautiful little babies inside ya. Babies we worked damn hard for. Babies we prayed for. Babies ya never stopped hoping and believing we'd have. And it's real. Very, very real. In 32 more weeks, give or take, we get to meet 'em and have the life we always talked about having." His large, rough, calloused hand slid underneath the thin material of her cotton tank top and rested protectively a top her smooth, flat stomach. "I love 'em already. Both of 'em. Crazy how I ain't even met 'em yet, but I'd do anything for 'em. These two and you, y'all are everything to me."

Carol's chest filled with warmth as she listened to him talk about their unborn children, about his love for not only them, but her. She covered his hands with hers, and said, "And you're everything to me. This life we've made together, these lives we made together," she smiled fondly to herself, "I never would have imaged happiness like this could exist. What we have together, what we've created, it's more than I ever could have hoped for.'

The corner of Daryl's lips turned up, he pulled his hand off of her belly and rolled so he was hovering over her. He gave her his goofiest, happiest grin, then leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. With her tank top scrunched up, he began scooting down the bed until his head was level with her belly. He bent his head, placing a gentle kiss on either side of her belly, loving the sound of her quiet giggle as his prickly face tickled her soft skin. "Night babies, daddy loves ya." Scooting his way back up the bed, he wound his arms around Carol once again, pulling her flush against him.

****27 weeks and later****

Daryl always heard that you're life can change in a moment. In a split second, everything you've ever known could change and the life you once lived would be no more.

And in his now 34 years of life, he'd experienced a few of those split second, life-altering changes where the world and everything he knew seemed to come to a standstill. Where everything you think you know about life and yourself is put into perspective and challenged. Sometimes those moments were happy and joyful, other times they were pain-staking and gut-wrenching.

Dropping out of school, landing his first real job, moving out of his parents house, Merle being throw in prison, winding up at diner and meeting Carol, Carol making him decide to stay and take that job, four months after meeting her finally being able to reach a point in their friendship they knew they wanted so much more with each other, asking her to marry him 11 months later, actually getting married a little over a year after that, buying their first house and deciding that first night they spent together in that house that it was time to start trying for a family together, struggling with trying to make that goal a reality, hearing a doctor say it was more than likely not possible for him to ever give his wife that family they longed for, seeing that positive result on that pregnancy test for the first time, that first pre-natal appointment where they found out they were not only going to have one, but two children, finding out at five months gestation one of those children (baby B as the doctor called him) would be a son, (while baby A had kept their gender a secret the entire pregnancy), those had all been pivotal moments in his life.

For better or worse, each moment redefined who he was, changed him some way. Whether small or big, those moments opened his eyes and heart to where he saw and felt things in a different light.

But there was not a single moment that would ever compare to the moments his children had been born.

His life was forever, irreversibly changed at 2:15 a.m. and again at 2:19 a.m on that late, warm summer night when he officially became a father for the first time.

It had been love at first sight when he'd seen their little goo covered faces, cut their umbilical cords, watched them be placed on his wife's bare chest for the first time as she cried a mixture of tears born from pain and the absolutely exhilarating love she carried in heart for those two children. Seeing their tiny little heads root for her breasts. The feel of their small frames in his massive arms. Nothing ever could have prepared him for all of the emotions he experienced in that delivery room.

For the way it made him love his wife even more than he'd already thought possible for giving him these two children.

And yes, she was tired and exhausted after giving birth. Sleep deprived from twelve hours of labor and exhausted from carrying two children in her womb for 35 weeks, but Daryl swore she'd never been more beautiful to him than she was when he saw her holding both babies in her arms, smiling down at them with all the joy and pride and awe in the world.

His daughter had been born first. His already hard-headed and stubborn daughter who'd made them wait the entire duration of the pregnancy to find out whether or not she was a boy or girl. Weighing only 5 lbs. and 4 ounces and measuring at 18 inches long, she was born with a head full of auburn hair and rosy red cheeks, which were a result of her coming into the world kicking and screaming at the top of her little lungs. They'd named her Nadia Rose Dixon. They'd chosen Nadia because it meant hope. Rose because of the Cherokee Rose and the significance it played in their relationship, what it symbolized for them. For Carol's first daughter she never got to meet, but would always remember and long for.

His son had followed four minutes later. A son who he'd started making plans for the moment he found out he was a boy. A son he would take hunting and fishing, who he'd teach how to track. Who he'd teach to respect and cherish women, starting with his mother and sister. Weighing 5 lbs. and 1 ounce and measuring at 19 inches long, he looked bald headed upon initial inspection, but upon further investigation, you could see that he was sporting a small amount of blond hair on top of that round head of his.

For a terrifying second, Daryl had thought his world was about to shatter when that baby boy didn't come out screaming and crying like his sister had. He remembered frantically asking the doctor what was wrong, if his little boy was okay. He could still hear Carol's previously elated voice crack and shatter as she clutched Daryl's hand tightly in hers and screamed the same thing. But a nurse gently stroked the baby's feet and pinched his toes and he emitted a swift squeal that put his sister's earlier one to shame.

Neither Daryl or Carol had ever felt such relief in their life as they did hearing that spine tingling cry.

They'd named their little boy Dylan. Dylan Shane Dixon. Originally, they'd been looking for boy names that went along with the theme of hope. Carol had come across some site on the web that claimed Dylan meant a ray of hope. But later, she found a lot more sites that said it meant son of the wave or born near the sea. In the end, they'd decided to stick with the name, having grown fond of the way it sounded. Besides, they'd ridden a hell of a wave in their quest to have children. His middle name was a bit more complicated in origin. You see, he was named after the man who'd saved Carol's life all those years ago.

Shane Walsh. The guy who lived in the apartment next to Carol's and had come home from work that night and heard her screams. That man who'd rushed in to save her. He'd been a rookie cop back then, turning in from his night time shift and being more than ready to crawl into his bed. The man didn't hesitate to rush into action when he heard the disturbance the next door over.

Daryl later learned more about the incident than Carol originally offered that night in the diner. How Shane broke down the door and saw what was going on, how he pulled his gun from it's holster and told Ed to stop, to step away from her, but the man was in such a drunken rage he either hadn't heard him or willingly decided he wasn't going to stop until he killed her. And Shane had done what he had to do, he'd done what he felt was necessary to save Carol's life. To try and save her baby's life.

A thorough investigation had been conducted and he hadn't served time. No one doubted his intentions or motives after Carol's hospital records and crime scene photos had been released. Not after interviewing her and finding out the hell she'd been living. Not after they learned that monster took her baby from her.

Shane still came to visit Carol from time to time. Usually once a year around Christmas. He'd long since moved, but he always kept in touch with her. Making sure she was alright, that her life was okay.

Daryl remembered the first time he'd met him. He'd never had such an urge to hug a strange man before. But that wasn't just any man. It was the man who saved the life of the woman he loved. And if it wasn't for him, Daryl wouldn't have Carol. They wouldn't have the life that they did together. They wouldn't have ever gotten the chance to make these two beautiful, perfect babies.

They'd both felt like they should honor Shane in some way and chose to do so by giving their son his name as a middle name.

()()()

"What are you thinking about?" Carol asked, breaking Daryl away from his deep thoughts. She was laying in the hospital bed, holding their son, while he was on the couch, one she assumed would pull out into a bed, their daughter was lying on his chest. He'd been staring off at the wall the last few minutes now, the tip of his finger gently stroking over their baby girl's back.

He craned his neck so he could meet her eyes and he shrugged a shoulder. "Just thinking about how lucky we are."

She smiled down at her sleeping son. The babies had been premature, being born at 35 weeks and 2 days, instead of 40. But that was normal for twins, or so they'd been told. She felt blessed because despite being a bit on the scrawny side, both babies were healthy overall. She'd had a relatively easy pregnancy and things had gone smoothly for her.

There'd been an episode with Braxton Hick's along the 7 month mark, one that sent both her and Daryl into a terrified panic that led them to Denise's door late one night, but in the end, that hadn't been anything to worry about. Just a normal occurrence.

Daryl was right, they were lucky. Luckier than some people. She knew there were other couples with the same struggle they had that wouldn't ever see their hopes and dreams fulfilled the same way they had. And her heart ached for those couples, just as it ached for every other mother who'd lost a baby or had their child taken from them.

She didn't understand why life worked the way it did. Why bad things happened to good people. Why men like her first husband existed. Why people who longed for children couldn't have them, meanwhile people who didn't want children or treated their children horribly could seem to get pregnant at the drop of a hat. She may never understand why she'd had to face the struggle she did before she met Daryl. Why they'd have to go through everything they did to get these two blessings that she loved more than life itself.

But she knew one thing.

She was so glad she hadn't given up when she'd reached rock bottom. She was thankful to Shane for doing what he had to do to make sure she lived. To Andrea and Michonne, for never giving up on her and for pushing her to see that she still had so much to live for. For Michonne, making her see how important it was to never give up and always have hope, even when it seemed that there's nothing left in the world for her to have that hope for.

That hope led her to Daryl, led her to her two wonderful babies.

Carol rocked baby Dylan in her arms and looked to Daryl, still smiling. "We are pretty lucky," she slid herself over in the bed, wincing slightly from the pain she still felt after giving birth not many hours ago. "Sit with me? With us?"

Daryl obliged her request, clutching his baby girl securely against his chest as he tentatively made his way to the small hospital bed and climbed in beside his wife. He leaned over and kissed her forehead and she rested her head on his shoulder.

Carol hummed to herself, her eyes landing on their daughter. "And to think, you wanted two boys."

Daryl's large hand ran up over the top of Nadia's small head, brushing through the head full of soft auburn hair. He snorted, "Ain't that I didn't want a little girl. I didn't care, really. Just wanted them both to be healthy and happy. I just know I'm prolly gonna end up in prison one day over her."

Carol chuckled at him. "Oh, no you won't. You'll teach her to be the toughest little girl around. She'll know how to work a gun and a crossbow by the time she's three. All the boys are gonna be terrified of her."

"Yeah, she's gonna be tough alright. But that's not gonna be on account of me. She'll get all that strength from you. Want her to be just like ya."

Carol smiled and her hand ghosted over their son's much tinier one. "And I hope he's just like you. Strong, but tender. Tough, but kind. Fierce and protective. Loyal. He'll be a fine man someday if he's anything like you."

Daryl didn't know about all that, just like he knew Carol didn't realize the full extent and beauty of her own strength, but those qualities she just named, they're something he wanted to see in his son. Things he knew made a good man, and that he knew his wife saw in him, even when he didn't see it in himself. "I still can't believe they're finally here," he murmured, glancing between his two children. "Crazy how they were still bouncing around inside of ya not even a 24 hours ago."

"Isn't it, though? Do you feel any different?"

"Yeah, I do," he confessed. "Feel like I'm holding a piece of my own heart in my hands. Feel like the other two pieces are right next to me. And I ain't never been happier."

"Yeah, me too." she agreed. Feeling exactly the same way. Dylan whimpered in her arms a bit, scrunching his wrinkly little face up and making a very Daryl-like pout with his little lips. Carol's heart fluttered beneath her chest and she shifted into a more comfortable position to try and appease him. It must've worked, because he quieted down and his pouty scowl disappeared.

"We did good, huh?" Daryl commented, a proud look washing over him as looked over his little family, all piled up in that little hospital bed.

"So good," she replied, eyes beaming and feeling her own sense of pride flooding through her at what they'd accomplished together.

Thank you guys for reading this. I hope it was enjoyable. I know it was a heavy story at first and it dealt with some sensitive topics. I hope the ending made up for that.

In the future, after I post the final chapter on My Best Friend's Sister (which will likely be next week), I may come back to this story and do a few future snippets as them as parents to these two. Not a detailed story, just little blurbs along the way. I haven't made up my mind about that yet, though.