Nox: So maybe, in a way, I dedicate this to Merle. Because goddammit that man should have lived! And so, he will. Here in my world. Where Daryl has his son, and Merle is a man who can be redeemed without being killed for it. My happy feels ran away with me! After Sunday's episode I needed it! Don't hurt me for it!

The Walking Dead belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

Loved

She wasn't sure what was more endearing. Daryl standing up for her, or for their baby. She realized it was both. She wondered if she should go out there and break it up, whatever it was between him and Glenn, but she knew they would work it out eventually. She figured it must have had to do with the living situation.

"Hey sugarmama." She didn't even turn from the window, just glanced over her shoulder. If she turned, he'd get an eye full of boob. Though she supposed it wouldn't be the first time.

"Merle," she said, releasing a breath. She figured he was the real reason Glenn and Daryl were fighting. Glenn was always finding something to complain about when it came to Merle. Not that she wanted to blame him, but enough time had passed. They'd escaped the tombs of the prison, killed the Governor together, traveled on even when he didn't need to come.

She was even beginning to like him. She shook her head at the thought.

"What can I help you with?" She listened to the heavy clomp of his boots as he came to stand next to her. He glanced down at the boy in her arms, suckling from her breast, and didn't even flinch. It unnerved her a little. She didn't think Daryl would appreciate it either.

"Just came ta see ma nephew," he remarked slowly, eyes never straying from her son. He finally looked up, eyes on her, narrowing slightly.

"Think ya should really be up an' about like this?" She sighed dramatically. If she thought about it, he wasn't much different from Daryl in that he cared enough to give her a headache.

"Not you too," she whined, and walked away, toward the chair in the corner. She looked up in time to see the smirk vanish from his lips.

"Ya know ma brother," he commented, leavin' from the room suddenly, "he's gonna be pissed if he finds ya stressin' ya body out." And he was gone, voice fadin' down the hallway.

She smiled, shaking her head and looked down at her boy, his blue eyes finding her as he continued to suckle. "The day when Merle cares," she whispered softly, caressing the top of his head.

"Why don't we let it sit for a few days," she said quietly, standing still, "think about it first." She was giving him the time to think about. He needed that, she knew. Needed the time to come to the decision.

He just paced, dragged a hand through his hair. "No," he barked back. She tensed. She didn't want to fight with him about this, didn't want him to make a decision he wasn't ready for. She knew how much pressure it was to have this baby. Knew how difficult it was for him to accept that. She watched as his eyes filled with regret and walked towards her, fidgeted.

He looked so unsure of himself. He looked like a child. "We did this," he said regretfully, motioning to her stomach. And in that moment, she was offended. She'd never felt angry at him before, but right then, she'd never wanted to walk away from him so bad.

If he didn't want to be a part of this, then she didn't want him there. A man who didn't want her, she didn't want. Granted, she wanted Daryl more than she wanted life itself, but she'd been with Ed. She knew what it was like to live with someone who never wanted you, ever.

"If you don't want this Daryl, then I don't need you," she said placing her hands over her belly, where her baby was, and backed away.

The force of her words, the confidence in them, hurt him. She could see that clear in his eyes. She didn't want to hurt him, but she didn't want a man who didn't want her. Didn't want a man who didn't want their child. She knew what that felt like, had lived with it for most of her life. She would never put herself through that again.

"Better make ya choice lil brother," Merle remarked dangerously, from her left. She didn't know he'd been listening, didn't even know he'd been around. "Better make the good one." Daryl stared at his brother, and she watched something exchange between them before resolution set over his features.

"Carol," he said desperately, reaching out to take her arm, "I didn't mean it that way." She waited, holding his gaze steadily. She didn't doubt that Daryl would take care of her. But she had an idea of how hard having this child would be for him.

"I just meant," he said, floundered for the right words, for the courage to actually say them, "yer my woman." Her eyes widened. She never thought she would have heard that come out of his mouth. "And I ain't gonna let you sleep in some damn cell away from me. Can't keep an eye on ya when ya fifteen feet away," he muttered, casting his eyes down.

She'd never meant to push him further than he wanted to go. She wanted him to make his own decisions, based on his own feelings. She didn't want to pressure him to do something he didn't want. She knew what that felt like.

"Are you sure?" she asked, shifting closer, not yet touching him. She could still see the lingering uncertainty in his gaze.

He reached out, grabbed her arm and pulled her closer, close enough to touch his body, but not quite there. He looked down her figure, passed her chest, and down to her belly.

"I take care a my own," he whispered, looking up to meet her eyes. She smiled softly and leaned forward, resting her cheek against his, the stubble scratching her. She watched as Merle nodded in her direction, eyes set, face serious and walked away.

She suspected that somehow she was getting two Dixons in this equation.

And she'd been right. Somehow, Merle had always been around when Daryl wasn't. Things had gone awry at the prison, but he'd never failed to be there for her if she'd absolutely needed it.

It wasn't all that bad either. Merle was more of a feeler than she'd expected. Where Daryl was hesitant to touch her in front of the others, Merle had no problem. He'd toss her over his shoulder if he coulda.

If she had something to say, she could say it outright to Merle's face and he'd laugh at her. He even ruffled her hair once, which shocked them both.

"Your Uncle's a lover," she said with a laugh. "But don't you dare tell him I said that." She ran her fingers lightly across her son's cheek, his blue eyes, so much like Daryl's, watching her intently.

But it was when Daryl wasn't around that Merle took to protecting her seriously.

"I'm perfectly capable of carrying a weapon still Maggie," she said confidently, handling the automatic rifle with ease. She knew her feet were starting to swell, and she'd developed a waddle much to the humor of her family. But that didn't mean she couldn't defend herself. Didn't mean she couldn't take up arms if the occasion called for it. Especially now, when the Governor's boots were knocking on their front steps.

"Carol, I just don't think, in your condition-" She looked up at Maggie sharply. She was pregnant for god's sake, not a damn cripple. And even then, Hershel still contributed.

"Condition?" Maggie looked sheepish for a moment, before fiddling with the ammo on the table.

"You know I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that with the baby and all, you should be more careful." She watched Maggie's face, watched the concern fill her eyes. She sighed and laid her hand over the young woman's.

"I can't sit around and do nothing Maggie," she said gently, squeezing her fingers in her own. "I can't let you all put yourself in danger and sit back-"

"The hell you can woman!" Merle's voice boomed around her, echoing off the concrete walls. She hated that. "Bo-peep's right." Maggie's brow went up, but she didn't say anything. "Tha's ma nephew in there," he said, eyeing her stomach. She felt her eyes widen, felt the words leave her.

"The hell if I let you put him, or yaself in any danger. Daryl'll kill me," he muttered. She watched a small smile slide over Maggie's lips.

She felt her chest constrict. She'd never thought she'd hear anything of the sort come out of Merle Dixon like that.

"'Sides," he said, throwing the metal stump round her shoulders, "yous a Dixon now." And she felt her face flush, and Maggie's smile widen even further.

She sighed, leaning back in the chair. Merle wasn't always such a team player. He'd proven to be quite the ass when he wanted. But she couldn't deny that he'd done right by her when she needed him too.

And she knew it was because of Daryl and their son.

"Carol." She looked up in time to catch Daryl coming through the doorway, tired, weary. He had blood splashed across his chest, the crossbow slung across his shoulders. He looked like he'd rolled in the dirt a few times and he smelled worse.

He looked towards the window first, because that's where she normally was. She was always watching the group.

"Over here," she called gently. He turned on his heels quickly, and froze when he saw her. She smiled. He still wasn't used to the breast-feeding. Seeing her bared to anyone who came and went. Sometimes she wondered if he wasn't jealous that now everyone was seeing her half-naked.

He dropped the crossbow to the ground and walked towards her.

He hesitated at first, his hand stretched out as if to touch his son. She could see the conflict in his eyes.

"I pro'bly smell like the dead," he muttered. It was just his way to try and evade them.

"Dead warmed over," she said smiling, joking. He didn't catch it though. Just started to back up. She reached forward to catch his arm before he could go any further, the boy in her arms detaching from her.

"Daryl, come back here," she demanded gently, pulling him towards her. He came a little unwillingly, nervous, but she wasn't going to let him run away. She knew he came up here to see their son, and she wasn't going to let anything get in the way of that.

"You know I don't care about that," she whispered. He looked down at the boy in her arms, caressing his cheek gently. The boy reached out for Daryl, arms stretching.

"Here," she said, passing him off. Their arms were awkward for a moment as she passed him over, but then Daryl held him close against his chest, blood and all. Boy didn't even notice.

"Someone wanna help me with dinner?" Beth called from the kitchen below. Daryl looked up, unsure.

"Deer's gotta be skinned, gutted," he said hesitantly. She smiled and grabbed his elbow, steering him toward the window seat. She adjusted her bra, her shirt with her other hand.

"You know I can do that now," she said softly. He sat down, eyes back on their boy, and she felt her heart swell.

"But ya shouldn't be on ya feet," he tried again. She laughed and took his face in her hands, the scruff of his face scratching her fingers. She remembered the feel of his stubble in other places, and kissed him. Her tongue swept out along his bottom lip and he granted her access to his mouth, and her tongue met his, briefly. He pulled away quicker than she would have liked, but she could feel the growing urgency in him now.

She liked feeling wanted.

His eyes opened, slowly, and there was a dark haze over them.

She rubbed her cheek along his. "Then I'll just drag Merle in to take care of it," she murmured softly. She kissed his neck and then walked away, before she changed her mind about dinner.

"Besides," she called over her shoulder, taking in another glance of her boys, the feeling of love flooding over her, "I need another pillow."

His groan carried down the hall after her. She laughed.

She knew he was getting tired of her staring at him. She could feel it in the way he kept looking at her, at the way his eyes would narrow. She couldn't help that she kept fidgeting either, pacing down by their makeshift river-stream.

She knew she just had to ask, but sometimes she felt like she didn't deserve everything he gave her.

"Hell woman," he shouted, drawing the attention of the others to them. She stopped her pacing, and turned to face him. He looked pissed now, and she knew he was tired. She knew he was tired because she was tossing and turning all night. He probably knew she was keeping something from him too.

He avoided looking at her belly and she hated the pinched feeling in her chest that did to her, but she ignored it.

"Got somethin' ta say to me?" He let his hands hang loose at his sides, covered in blood, filth under his nails. He'd been cleaning the squirrels he'd caught earlier, keeping up on the food for the group despite everything he still did for her.

She bit her bottom lip, unconsciously, and she didn't miss the way his gaze lingered.

"I…" she didn't finish, just avoided his gaze again.

"Spit it out Carol. Ya got somethin' to say, just say it. I ain't gonna sit there an' watch ya worry over nothin'." She twisted her hands together and sighed.

"I can't sleep," she admitted, a blush creeping over her cheeks.

"Shit woman, I coulda told ya that!" She shot him a look that silenced his next retort. She crossed her arms over her chest, and squared her feet.

"I would never have guessed. It's not like you sleep with me anymore," she muttered under her breath. She didn't miss the way his cheeks flushed over, or the way his feet shifted nervously.

She sighed and dropped her arms. "You know I don't mean it like that. I just mean that you aren't there," and lord help her, she started to cry. She didn't want too, knew it would make him uncomfortable. He was already on edge with everything else going on, and she didn't want to add to that. She just couldn't help it. She was tired, she was achy, and she was fat.

But she couldn't tell him that.

"Carol," he said, reaching out to touch her, but stopped short, catching the blood on his hands.

But she didn't even care. She thrust herself into his arms and buried her face against his shoulder, ignoring the sweat under his arms, the blood on his hands, and the dirt on his face.

It didn't matter what he was looked or smelled like.

"I'm sorry I keep you up at night," she murmured against his chest, sniffling. "It's just, it's uncomfortable." She buried her nose in his shirt, the smell of Daryl still there, lying underneath everything else. She wanted that to wrap her up, to make her feel like home.

"Hell woman," he said wrapping an arm around her carefully. She could feel the hesitation in his embrace, the way his arm just barely held her. She knew everyone was watching them now. "If I knew what would make you comfortable I'd fix it," he mumbled, resting his chin on her head.

She'd been on and off for the past few weeks now. Affectionate one minute, and ready to take his head off the next. She knew it was hormones, and she knew Hershel had explained that to him. But she also knew that this was difficult for him. She just had to tell him.

Embarrassment be damned.

"Pillows," she said softly, avoiding his gaze, burying her face further into his shirt. She knew she didn't really need them. She used his arm most nights, or the extra blanket they kept in the cell with them. He must have been thinking the same thing because his face twisted in confusion.

"Two pillows to be exact," she murmured looking up to meet his gaze.

She knew it was going to be difficult to ask for the pillows. Stupid, really. He was already confused about most things concerning her pregnancy and now she needed pillows? A luxury that they couldn't really afford?

She rubbed her belly absently.

"One for my legs, and one for my back," she said as she placed one of her hands against her back, rubbing that too.

"Somethin' wrong with ya?" Her features pinched together, and then after a moment, she laughed. She reached out and touched his cheek gently.

"No Daryl," she said softly, the laughter dying on her lips, "but thank you for worrying." She smiled. "I can't lie on my back, so I lie on my side. And when I do my hips hurt. I need a pillow between my legs to relieve the pressure. And I need a pillow behind my back. It's hurting especially," she said grimacing, kneading her fingers along her spine.

She felt his fingers slide along her arm, reaching to her back. He shifted closer to her and she looked up, catching his eyes as he kneaded his fingers into her skin. Her lids dropped in pleasure at the pressure he put against her sore back.

"Hell if pillows get ya to sleep, I'll make ya as many as ya want." She opened her eyes, and saw that he was serious. "Saw a couple a geese, couple yards back," he continued, gesturing behind him into the woods at his back, through the chain-link fence.

Her eyes widened and then she was laughing again. His eyes widened and he pulled her closer, his fingers tightening against her back. She touched his face, reached up, and kissed him softly on the lips.

"However you get me pillows Daryl Dixon, I'll use them wisely," she whispered against him, watching as his eyes lit up.

He'd made her the pillows. And unfortunately they hadn't made it through their escape from the prison. But it didn't matter. She would survive.

"Do I cut the skin here," Beth asked hesitantly, her knife hovering over the carcass, "or here?" She laughed and pulled Beth's hand to the proper place and demonstrated just where to cut the skin from.

"The hell you think yer doin'?" Merle barked, storming into the kitchen. Beth jerked up, the blade sliding through a particularly nice piece of meat.

"Damn girlie!" He moved towards her quickly, took her hand in his, standing just to the side behind her. "Don't wanna fuck up a nice piece a venison like this," he crowed. A smile crawled over Beth's lips, and she let Merle guide her hand over the beast beneath her.

She heard him growl in frustration. "Shit ain't women's work," he muttered.

Beth propped her fists on her hips and cocked her head. "Well it's not like your being very helpful," she remarked dryly. She held the knife out then, her smile getting broader.

"Oh right," she said chuckling. "Silly me, you don't need that." Merle's arms tensed and the growl grew louder in his throat.

"Merle," she warned.

"Oh it's alright Carol," Beth said suddenly and turned back to the deer at the table. "Merle and I will be fine," she said smiling up at him, patting his arm. "Won't we?"

Carol couldn't help the laugh that burst from her. "Just behave," she said, turning away from them both and walking back up the stairs. Seemed she wasn't needed here.

"Mouse," he called suddenly, and she stopped, hand on the banister. She turned to him, finding his eyes questioning, curious.

"How's ma nephew?" She smiled, and shook her head.

"You were just up there Merle. He's fine," she said slowly. He shook his head, absently replacing Beth's hands next to him.

"An' ma brother?" She could hear the underlying message, the one that she knew he never needed to ask but he always seemed to do.

He always seemed to know that Daryl had been uncomfortable with her pregnancy. Or he knew that Daryl had always been uncomfortable with the fact that he was going to be a father. Whichever it was, Merle knew.

Merle knew and he was looking out for both her and her son. Merle knew and he was taking care of it all.

Merle cared.

"He's upstairs," she murmured softly, and what passed between them was something that happened only between family.

She walked up the stairs, leaving Merle and Beth to their project. And she walked into her room to find the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen.

Daryl was lying on the bed with their boy lying on his chest. He'd changed his shirt, had kicked off his boots and had somehow washed his face off. And then he'd fallen to the bed, and there they both slept.

She felt her eyes prick with tears.

It wasn't that long ago that she was still trying to get him to just feel their son, inside of her, through her belly.

"Daryl just, here," she said, reaching out and grasping hold of his weathered, scarred fingers. She pulled him forward, fear clouding his features. She could feel the slight tremble in his hand, but she knew this was what he wanted.

She placed his hand across her belly, swollen. She was five months along now, and Daryl still hadn't touched her. Not since she'd first told him she could feel their 'miracle' bumping against her hand. He'd been avoiding her ever since. Something like that, inside of her moving, scared the hell out of him. Or so he said.

She ached for his touch, anything really, but most of all, she wanted him to feel the life form growing inside of her.

And as his hand settled over her belly, over their baby, she could feel the kick. She watched Daryl's face, her hand resting over his. She waited, on bated breath, for the reaction she feared. She didn't want to scare him, but she wanted him to know his child. She wanted him to love it.

His brows drew together and his fingers gripped hers, tight. He leaned in closer, and when the baby kicked again, he looked up at her, eyes wide.

"Is that…" She smiled softly, squeezing his hand gently. There was hope in that look, the fear falling away slowly.

She reached out and ran her free hand across his temple, brushing aside his shaggy hair. He didn't even seem to notice.

"Can I…can I talk to it?" She laughed and wrapped her hand around his neck, pulled him close, her lips finding his. She could feel the surprise, the hesitation, but he recovered quickly and responded. Moving closer to her, his own hand wrapping around her neck, gripping her firmly. She sighed contentedly against him, as his tongue sweeped out briefly, caressing her bottom lip.

He gripped her waist as she opened her eyes. "Of course you can talk to him," she murmured, the rush of emotions taking hold of her voice.

His brow went up, and he shifted even closer; his legs surrounding her, both of his arms now holding her waist. She didn't think she'd ever felt so safe, so content, so loved, in her entire life.

"Him?" She could see the tilt to his lips, and was glad that the tension was gone from his shoulders.

She rubbed a hand across his arm, emotions shifting in her at the scar under her fingers. It had taken him a while to let her touch the scars that were visible. She couldn't even think about the ones that marked his back. "Yes, him," she said quietly.

He leaned down, resting his ear against her belly. She wanted to capture this moment, forever. Wanted to hold it close to her heart.

"Hey there, lil man," he said softly, wrapping his arms around her body. She laid a hand on his back gently, and ran the other gently through his hair. She watched as he closed his eyes, breathing deep. It had taken him a long time, to get this close to her, to allow her to touch him like this. He still wouldn't come to bed unclothed, but it didn't bother her. The fact that they even shared his bed was enough.

And this, this tender moment was so unusual. He usually wasn't so intimate, so loving, so touching. She suspected he was fascinated by the little life-form growing inside of her to even notice.

He smiled, and she could feel the kick. "Better watch it boy," he said mock-serious, "you a Dixon." He rubbed her belly in circles, slow and gentle. The motion brought tears to her eyes. "And Dixons don't sass they mamas."

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. "I love you Daryl Dixon," she whispered.

This moment now, she wanted to hold close to her heart. She loved both of these men in her life.

She approached the bed, and crawled into it as gently as she could so as not to disturb the picture before her. But she should have known better. The moment her hips hit the bed Daryl's hand reached out and pulled her against him, his arm wrapped firmly around her. She was shocked for a moment, but she recovered quickly.

Daryl buried his face against her head, and she reached up to caress her son's back. He didn't stir, not even when Daryl shifted and he rolled to the crease between them where he lay squished and comfortable.

She kissed the top of his blonde head, and propped her arm over him and around Daryl's waist. She closed her eyes, about to enjoy a nap with them when she felt something plop against her legs.

She opened her eyes to find a pillow resting over her knees, and when she looked up Daryl was peering down at her through half-lidded eyes, a smirk on his face.

She laughed softly, and swatted his side. And as she tucked the pillow between her legs he kissed the top of her head.

She never felt more loved.

A/N: So, Caryl. Merle. I even did a little Meth. Yeah, that's right folks. Meth. Carol is so much more lovey here. This whole chapter was just full of hugs and squishes and loves.

To any newcomers, don't be afraid to leave me a review, a comment, a word. I love all of you who find the time to read this.