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"Selena's still having a hard time," I spoke, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my shirt, "We all are, but it seems to get worse for her than better. She's doing the most around here and coming back utterly exhausted. I guess she's trying not to think about you so much. Your dad is better than he was a few months ago." I rubbed a hand over my colossal stomach and smiled, feeling my baby's foot through my skin.

"He's getting excited about the baby," I continued, " We haven't come up with a name if it's a boy yet, and they should be here soon. Your dad, Daryl, and Jacob are betting they'll be here within two weeks. Michonne, Carol, and I are thinking by early next month." Sharp pain in my pelvis made me wince and rub the spot, "I wonder if this is how Lori felt when she was pregnant," I wondered, feeling uncomfortable with how this kid was positioned inside me.

"I swear, this kid has been using me as its swimming pool," I chuckled, "Although they haven't been moving around as much lately. Oh, Maggie had her baby! Hershel Rhee! We went last week to see her and baby Hershel. He looks just like his daddy." I trailed, saddened as I thought about Glenn, "I wonder how this baby will look like," I mused.

"Will they have you and your dad's bright blue eyes or my dull ones? Will they look more like me or your dad? This pregnancy's been hard, and well, you know I didn't necessarily take care of myself early on." Again, I rubbed my large stomach and felt my eyes well up with tears, feeling incredibly guilty, "I was beaten, stabbed, and went three whole weeks without substantial food or water, no prenatal, and putting my body through hell. It was worth it, though." I wiped my eyes, but more tears fell. The wound in my heart reopened, and I licked my lips, trying to keep my voice strong.

"I-I got to have more time with you," I choked, my voice cracking, "I got to hold you in my arms and tell you I loved you before—" I shook my head and wiped the tears that were running down my face, "I didn't come here to cry today," I laughed pathetically, "I came here to fill you in on everything you've missed. Oh, which reminds me! You should've seen Judith today! She's talking so much more, and she's a little spitfire. Your dad says she's a lot like you when you were her age. Yesterday, she was prancing around in your hat and covering her eye—" I trailed off, "We all miss you, Carl." I whimpered again, feeling my chest constrict, "It gets easier every day, but the hurt is still there. I don't think I'll ever stop missing you or thinking of you. I know the same can be said for your dad and Selena."

"There you are," A low voice grumbled behind me, one I've gotten so used to over the years. I didn't try to hide my tears and looked at the rugged man behind me. He desperately needed a haircut—one I'm determined to give later on—and he seemed especially dirty. Daryl frowned and approached me, sitting on the ground next to me.

"I'm just talking to Carl," I muttered, my hands rubbing my baby. It reassures me that everything will be okay when I feel them swimming around in there, but lately, they haven't been moving around as much, which worries me, "Telling him what's going on with us," Daryl nodded and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him.

Together, we stared at the grave in silence. Carl was taken from us too soon—way too soon. Siddiq, our doctor, and man that Carl, Selena, and I rescued, tried his hardest to stop the bleeding, but without the necessary tools... Carl just slipped away.

Rick, Selena, and I were a mess for a long time after that. We tried—well, at least Rick and I tried—to heal, but the big gaping hole in our hearts will take forever to patch over fully. Selena, she's been a complete and total mess. She didn't want to eat for a long time after we lost him, she didn't want to talk to anyone, and every night for months, we could hear her crying herself to sleep. Now, she busies herself around Alexandria. We've constructed a windmill with an adequate water system so we wouldn't have to go outside the walls anymore, and our garden is flourishing beautifully, but there's still a lot to do.

Dead Man Walking | Rick GrimesWhere stories live. Discover now